Movie Star
by Phoenix13
Summary: MOVIEVERSE POST 2007 MOVIE Optimus Prime made a special movie a very long time ago, and he wishes the universe would forget about it. Chapter 13 It's DONE! It's up! Holoform Optimus Prime tries out his talents on Maggie. Naughty bits enclosed!
1. Chapter 1

**The Movie Star**

AUTHORS NOTE: Crack Fic! Total crack! Beware! Total silliness and non-conformity! I've read many delightful and entertaining 'crack' fics on FFN, and I want to add my own bout of craziness to the mix.

What's 'crack', for those who don't know? Something so silly and outrageous that it would never happen. 'Crack' can be any universe, any time, any place, mixed up together or with big chunks ripped out.

I can already hear cries of 'That's disgusting!' 'That's sick!' 'That's not in character!' And what am I responding with? SHUT UP! This is fun! Go get some damn popcorn..

* * *

_EARTH, Tranquillity, USA. _

Ironhide had come out of recharge early. Even earlier than before Optimus, for Primus sake. Although he had heard some faint rustlings coming from the Leader mech's room.

The Earth sun wasn't yet up. Dawn was still an hour away. Ironhide, grumbling, as always – he was NOT an early morning mech – availed himself of a tin of distilled high grade energon, seated himself at his communications terminal in the rec room and began zipping through all of the new information available on the World Wide Web. He didn't get far. Reading one particular titbit that seemed to be appearing on every web site and newsfeed on the web, the details of the newsflash went straight over his head. For one nanosecond, anyway...

"WHAT!!!!!!!!" Unswallowed energon was spewed over the com terminal. Ironhide hurriedly tried to wipe it off with his fingers, reading the wording on the screen, "No! NO! That's just... not right." He choked, blinking his optics a few times, trying to clear his vision. Nope, nope, it was a hundred percent functioning. Oh dear Primus, this was just unbelievable.

Unbelievable but very entertaining.

He carefully studied the many pictures available for a few astroseconds, decided against opening the clickable videolink since it came with sound which the others would hear, and looked secretly down at the space between his own legs. Damn it, now he definitely knew Optimus was better than him, EVERYWHERE. Slag it.

While Ironhide was the one bot who brought trouble down upon his head as easily as a fly attracted to dead meat, he was very respectful of the sensibilities of his fellow warriors. Usually.

"OPTIMUS!" he screamed over his shoulder, his voice rebounding through the Autobot base. "Get your sorry aft out here! NOW!"

It was two glowering bots who came stomping and tripping blearily down the hallway and into the rec room. "Ironhide, what on Cybertron is the problem?" Optimus rumbled.

Ironhide pointed at the screen. The discriminating pictures and writing were all too clear. Yet, Optimus did not react as 'Hide thought he would. The big bot merely sighed, looking down at the floor contemplatively.

"Well. This was not unexpected." Optimus said slowly.

"UNEXPECTED?! That's you! There! On the screen, all over the humans World Wide Wotsit! WITH A SLAGGIN' FEMME!" Ironhide yelled, jabbing one metal pointy finger at the shameful screen.

Ratchet was practically blubbering next to them. There on the screen were parts of Optimus Prime that only Ratchet ever saw in discrete medical checks. And that was not all. There was a Transformer femme also showing 'bits' comparative to Optimus' impressive male, er, 'bits'. While Transformers did not, and could not, perform a sex act in the human style, what they could do was not too far away from it. As ably demonstrated by Optimus and the femme. Together. In many positions. As far as the cables would stretch, anyway.

Optimus Prime was very flexible and masculine. And now the rest of Earth knew about it as well.

Ironhide and Ratchet were both staring at Optimus. How could he be so calm? Ironhide, twisting around in his seat, was seeing his legendary Commander in a whole new light. Ratchet still looked horrified.

"B-but... that's... it... can't be true, can it?" Ratchet stuttered. His cool and competent medical facade had been abruptly dropped.

"It is. I'm sorry," Optimus rubbed one hand slowly over his face. "Obviously, Barricade has decided he cannot do anything to us by himself with regular war tactics, and he has dug around some very old Cybertronian datalinks and found this, for humiliation." _And I thought they were all deleted, damn it!_ He thought desperately.

"You know, I did expect it to be that big, you do have a lot of experience to pass on through that cable, Optimus," Ironhide said thoughtfully, turning his head to the side to inspect the middle of the picture. Ratchet smacked him hard in the back of the head.

"OW! Ratch!"

"Shut up, glitch. Now, Optimus, this needs to be explained, right now, right here. Spill it." Ratchet pointed one threatening finger at the chest of his ages old friend. Ratchet had thought he'd known simply EVERYTHING there was to know about Prime's past and present. He must've missed something somewhere...

"This was, THAT was, a very big mistake I made in my very first days as my new self," Optimus began, linking his hands behind his back in what he hoped was a comfortable seeming gesture.

Ratchet twitched his optic ridges reflexively, "You mean after you were made Autobot Leader."

"Er, no, this was before that. I was upgraded from a regular protoform into something more like what I am now. And I think it went to my head for a while, being so different and powerful."

Ironhide snickered. Well, duh.

"I needed credits, my financial situation was rather dire. I was young, and very desperate. I also had an overactive interface drive." The last sentence was said as a quiet murmur.

"And the three of us know just how much credits were available for mech's who were willing to perform in such a way," Ratchet filled in the silence for him.

Optimus forced himself to lift his head from staring at the floor, he had decided for himself long ago that he would never be embarrassed by what he had done and he refused to change that oath now. "Those credits paid for the first thousand or so Autobot insignia brandings. Not to mention keeping the new weapons division fully stocked and loaded for many vorns. It was the beginning of the Autobots." He hoped his explanation would be acceptable to his friends.

"Riiiiiight." Ironhide stood up from his chair. "And the title 'Iacon Gets Primed' is just a fanciful whimsy. What's the sequel, 'Optimus Does Cybertron'?" He was referring to the graphics displayed crudely over the top of the pictures. Advertising for the product. "Okay, OKAY, sorry. We must deal with this as adult mech's." Ironhide back tracked quickly at Prime's withering expression and the violent hiss of Ratchet's air intakes.

"Heh." The others were startled by Optimus' sudden chuckles. "I can see the funny side to all this."

Ratchet looked at him like he was mad, "I can't!"

The frenzied shrieking of the Autobot comlink channels interrupted them. "I'll get it," Optimus said with resignation, pivoting around and leaning forward to click the button, bracing himself.

A violent series of Cybertronian clicks, whistles and digital warbles hit everyones audios.

"Yes Bumblebee, I have seen it, and it is not a joke."

A long whistled question.

"No, no, it's a surprise to them too, they didn't know, I was just explaining. It happened a long time ago," Optimus sighed, staring up at the ceiling, shifting his weight from one metallic foot to another.

A short burst of rapid clicks.

"What? No, you cannot download the entire thing! Forget it! That's an order!"

A sombre whistle and a swift querying click.

"Sam is not allowed to view it either, even if he has got a copy already! Delete it!"

A stuttering click and digitally perked whoosh was the response.

"Oh for..." Prime slapped his hand to his face, "Tell Mr and Mrs Witwicky you are definitely not a pervert, NONE of us are, yes including me, sadly, and you will not in any form defile Sam's dignity or honor. Got that?"

An affirmative whine, followed by a short squeal.

"Bumblebee, honestly, you are far past the age for 'You show me yours, I'll show you mine'. Do not show Sam your equipment, no matter how convincing he is."

A quick hopeful click.

"That goes for Mikaela too! She should know better! Tell her no!"

Optimus, frustrated, cut off the comlink with a muttered swear word, frowning.

There was silence for a moment. Followed by raucous mechanical laughter.

"Oh my god... Slag this is good...!" Ironhide groaned, thumping one hand on the table top, laughing. Ratchet was bent over, hands on knees, crying tears of clear energon.

"Our Optimus, the Porn Star!" the medic gasped.

Optimus shrugged his massive shoulders. "Ex-porn star, Ratchet. Don't forget the 'ex' bit."

* * *

If there is anyone who wants another chapter, it will take a lot to convince me. Honestly. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Movie Star**

AUTHORS NOTE: Yes, I know, I wrote another chapter of this madness. Can't help myself! Must feed the beast! And for amusement purposes, Ironhide's sparkmate, Chromia, doesn't exsist here. Makes it more fun to play with Ironhide if he doesn't have baggage.

And anyone who wants to gasp, flame me, scream, throw things – THIS IS NOT A SERIOUS FIC!

**Chapter 2**

"GLEN! I swear, if you don't turn that OFF, right now, I'll... I'll...!!" Maggie Madsen was covering her eyes with her hands, not wanting at all to see what her cohort, Glen Whitmann, was watching on his computer screen.

Glen was laughing. "Mags, its really funny! C'mon, its ROBOTS."

"You can't watch that sort of thing on a Government computer, at a Government facility, during Government working hours! Stop it!" Maggie was pleading now, rocking in her seat. She was not going to watch one of the heroes of the epic Mission City fight be degraded. Even though it appeared and sounded like (she had watched a few snatched seconds here and there, her bad) Optimus Prime was definitely not the one being degraded. In fact, he was getting such moans and squeals of pleasure from the alien femme he was, er, 'attached' to, that Maggie felt her feminine skills were very inferior in comparison. And how on Earth did Optimus manage to move his hips like that? It wasn't right.

A long deep grunt of pure male satisfaction echoed around the small office, followed by the flash of thick blue light. Maggie knew that must have been some sort of climax on behalf of Optimus Prime, and perhaps that was the end of the movie. She started to look up, and was appalled to see that the naughty pair were still 'connected' and Optimus was moving the female on the screen from her stance on top of his supine body and placing her underneath him. The new position signalled the beginning of a whole new round of robot sex.

"OH GOD! Enough!" She leapt to her feet and escaped from the office, power walking down the hall away from the non-stop porn fest Glen was intent on watching. A shriek of laughter followed Maggie's disappearance down the hall. Just let the SecDef catch him viewing _that_, Maggie thought desperately, shaking her head.

Maggie wasn't the only one having serious personal issues. Sam was insistently annoying Bumblebee for more information on what a male Transformer did with a female Transformer. The Camero could only explain so much, since he hadn't ever had the pleasure of being with a female, himself. And after Optimus Prime's order that he not show his best friend Sam his interface equipment, he was very empty of appropriate answers.

"Sam, this isn't right, he's told you as much as he knows, stop badgering him for more!" Mikaela was sitting cross-legged on the lawn, her wrists balanced on her knees so her hands dangled in the air.

Sam looked at her, scratching the back of his head. "I just want to make sure we've got this right, we're the main human liaison for the Autobots, I mean, c'mon, the rest of the world has seen the movie, and we haven't. If the only way to know anything is to question 'Bee, that's what we'll have to do."

Bumblebee was lying on his back on the lawn, legs stretched out. His optics were switching from looking at his two human companions to staring up at the night sky. He honestly wished he had experience with another female, but he didn't. Like Mikaela had expressed, there was only so much he could explain. Bumblebee had seen the movie – he'd viewed it before Sam had reluctantly deleted it – and he was quite in awe of his Commander's abilities. He hadn't realised Prime was so... skilled. And adaptable. Optimus Prime never failed to be interesting.

"Bee? Bee!"

He wanted to learn more. Would it be a breach of confidentiality or morals to ask Optimus for some coaching? Optimus was after all his teacher, and elder guardian. And he wasn't going to approach Ironhide, although 'Hide had a reputation for being one of the biggest; as the humans put it; 'sluts'; in the Autobot ranks –

"BUMBLEBEE! Hello! Hey!" Sam put a hand on Bee's chest, tapping his fingers.

The Camero's optics flickered and his head lifted up off the ground as he focused on Sam, "My apologies, Sam, I was contemplating. What were you asking?"

Sam rolled his eyes, his mouth quirking up into a grin, "S'alright Bee, we're all doing a lot of that at the moment. I was wanting to check if I have understood everything you've tried to explain. Mind if I run my ideas by you?"

"Of course, go ahead. I am listening."

"Right, so." Sam placed his hands on his hips, thinking. Bumblebee and Mikaela watched him pace and walk in small circles, human and robot heads focused on him. "You guys all have a spark. A blue glowing thing, in your chests. The females have this too. It's kinda like your version of a human soul. It's what makes you guys different from one another."

"Yes." Bee kept his optics on his human.

"What we call sex, you call interfacing, and interfacing involves two methods, usually done together. One is putting your sparks together somehow, and the other is joining or connecting some wires."

"Wires isn't the right word, Sam." Bumblebee sat up, bracing his arms behind him to keep upright, and carefully checking to see he was not poking his head above the neighbourhood fence height.

"You don't call your dick a wire, Sam," Mikaela said dryly.

Sam snorted at her, shaking his head, "But that's what it sounds like. See, this is why I'm checking."

"Sam, the proper term is an interface connector and it is much thicker than a single wire. We also have many different terms for it, just like Mikaela referred to your penis as a dick."

Mikaela leaned forwards and covered her face with her hands, moaning slightly. She was thanking God that Sam's parents weren't currently home to hear this little conversation!

"Er, okay. I haven't understood the _connector_ part then. Explain again, please?" Sam asked.

Bumblebee nodded, lifting one hand to touch at the point on his abdomen where the interface connector appeared from. Mikaela was fascinated that it apparently came from almost the same place where men had their penis! If just a little higher.

"The connector is hidden under this panel." Bee tapped a finger underneath the spot where the bellybutton was on a human. "I believe you didn't understand my measurement explanation before, so for comparison purposes, it is approximately as thick as your lower arm, but this does vary from mech to mech."

Mikaela gasped, sitting up straight with her eyelids fluttering.

Sam choked, bending forwards and coughing, "... You're kidding me!! And by mech you mean, male...?"

"Yes," Bumblebee nodded, "Our males are referred to as mechs. Females are femmes."

"Bumblebee, please don't explain again about you guys putting that thing into a female Transformer, I think we get that," Mikaela tried desperately, stretching the width of one hand over her face and rubbing tiredly at her eyes.

"That information is correct. They have an interface port of approximate depth and width to accommodate-"

"BEE! No more!" Mikaela cut him short, waving both hands in the air to shut him up.

Sam was grinning wildly. He was enjoying this. He felt sorry for Optimus Prime; not to an extreme extent, since from all reports the guy had seriously enjoyed himself making the film; but this experience was letting the humans explore a whole new side to the robot aliens. And why was Mikaela being squeamish? Out of the three of them in the backyard, she had waaay more experience than he and Bumblebee did! She'd been around the block so many times she could've been the information booth for tourists.

Sam thought of something else, "Is there any rivalry about which mech has the biggest, um, you know, connector thing?"

Mikaela let loose a huff, shaking her head. Sam had all the stupid questions. Stupid _male_ questions.

"Not as far as I am aware," Bumblebee responded uncertainly. "I have seen on the World Web that humans compete about penis size, which is strange since there is nothing you can do to change your own dimensions. It is pre-determined before your birth, is it not?"

"Yeah, it is. And you're right, its very stupid. Add it on to that long list called 'Stupid Shit Humans Do'," Sam agreed. Yet another dumb human trait. Those with big ones boasted and put themselves in the spotlight. Smaller endowed males hid and hung onto that old chestnut of quality not quantity, with both, er, hands.

Bumblebee's optics travelled down to look curiously at Sam's crotch, "From my previous scans of your form, and by cross-referencing to human male statistical data, you are in the average category for penis length, Sam, but above average for width."

"Oh, for God's sake! Shuttup, both of you! Arghh!" Mikaela put both hands over her ears. She wasn't going to listen anymore to Sam and Bee's stupid conversation.

Back at the Autobot Base, Ratchet and Ironhide were having an intimate conversation of their own. Optimus Prime had left; an appointment with various US Government officials; thus giving the two remaining Autobots a chance to freely discuss Prime's predicament.

"I do not believe it, will not believe it and refuse forevermore to believe it," Ratchet muttered with determination, standing with both of his hands covering his faceplates in woe.

"What? This just proves he really doesn't have such a big stick up his aft as we thought. I mean, he's so slaggin' QUIET. Never discusses femmes like we do, rarely mentions Elita One, and yet, there he is, prancing about on screen doing things even I haven't thought of to do with a female!" Ironhide was sprawled out on a large chair, one arm hanging off the back of the headrest. He was grinning from audio to audio. This new piece of information on Optimus was going to be used as ammunition for millenia to come.

"Ironhide, we have to be understanding with this. He's going to cop one hell of a slagging from the humans here. Wether they fully understand our species or not-"

"They do now!" Ironhide blatantly interupted with a mad laugh.

Ratchet held up a hand, frowning, "Some humans may use this as a chance to hurt Optimus. I have no doubt this was Barricade's intention. We must be prepared to provide Optimus with any help and support he may require."

Ironhide sat fully upright, gesturing at the computer screen showing paused images of Optimus and the femme, "He doesn't need any help with femme formatting from what I'm looking at. It's a wonder that poor femme didn't get radiation leakage from Optimus exposing his spark to her for so long."

"IRONHIDE! Will you get your CPU out of the smelting cesspit for once?!" Ratchet spat, clenching both hands into angry fists.

"Eh. Sure, sure, you know I'll help any way I can. I'm just having a go..." Ironhide grumped. Ratchet could have sworn Ironhide looked like he was pouting. Large, black, dangerous, cannon-toting, mech. With a pout.

The medic went silent for a second. His optics bore into Ironhide's armor plated thick head, thinking on Ironhide's level. "You're worried you've lost your position at the top of the femme harassment list," he suddenly stated triumphantly.

"It is not harassment! Its conquests and interface accomplishment totals!" Ironhide declared, holding his head up and not looking at all ashamed or embarrassed.

"I know about the conquests bit, every time we tried to un-dock the _ARK_ from a space station after loading supplies, Optimus would need to warn the latest female in your quarters that we were about to leave and this was her last chance to disembark or get stuck travelling with us."

Ironhide's faceplates glazed over with happy reminiscing, "Heh, yeah, that was the only good thing about searching for the Allspark. New females at all the spaceports."

"Ugh, I am NOT going through this again. No. Just... no. Those walls between our quarters were too thin, I should have moved to another level." Ratchet held up his hands, beginning to stalk away, as if Ironhide could pass on his demented ideas to Ratchet's clean CPU by osmosis.

Ironhide went after him, abandoning his chair, "C'mon Ratch, maybe we can find you a nice human fem-"

...Ironhide didn't remember being shot in the chest with a low-range ion rifle at near point blank range. He just curiously fingered the still-hot blast circle on his chestplates when he awoke sprawled on the floor sometime later and Ratchet was mysteriously absent.


	3. Chapter 3

**Movie Star**

AUTHORS NOTE: There are swear words and a sort-of sex scene (humans, not Bots!) in this chapter. Beware!

**Chapter 3**

_Tranquillity, Industrial Area.._

Frenzy had opened the front of his chest, revealing the small spluttering spark located within it. He was also bending over an empty oil barrel and humping it with his hips. His spindly limbs grasped at the width of the barrel as best they could.

"CadeCade! Lookit! W-w-watch me!" He chittered excitedly, not stopping his movements.

Barricade frowned, swivelling his head to look grumpily at his hacker partner. He was sitting on the floor of the empty warehouse, leaning back against the wall with one leg drawn up to his chest, musing to himself. He hadn't been paying attention to his friend, "Frenzy, what do you – WHAT THE SLAG ARE YOU DOING?!"

"G-g-guess whowhowho I am!" Frenzy burst out. A few recorded sounds of a female moaning in pleasure came from the little bot, followed by Frenzy making excited sounds of his own.

"Zee! I've had enough of that joke! I know Prime is the biggest fricking slaghead of all time, but would you slagging stop imitating him?!" Barricade sneered. He'd had enough of Frenzy making out he was Optimus Prime, the movie star, interfacing with a femme. Exactly like the illustrious data recording Frenzy had dug up during his bored hacking of old Cybertronian records, and released onto all the Earth information networks with screams of wild delight.

"HumansHumansHumans, like t-t-this! Like a lotlotlot! Bad Optimus not a good botbot; he RUDE!" Frenzy had been cackling and glitzing his circuits for days afterwards, he was so pleased with himself.

Barricade hasn't dared try to stop the crazy mini-bot from posting the movie. He would've ended up dodging those spinning discs Frenzy shot rapidfire from his chest. It was not wise to get in Frenzy's way when he was this excited about something. Yet the Mustang Saleen also didn't want the Autobots coming after him or Frenzy in revenge, and he especially didn't want to push Optimus Prime to the point where the massive mech went absolutely psycho – even Megatron had held that particular fear. A fritzing mad Prime was unpredictable and incredibly powerful. Optimus tossing the Allspark into space was testament to that (no one had known he could throw that far, or that he would even attempt to do away with the sacred Allspark by _losing_ it forever in space).

"CADE!" Frenzy screeched.

"ARGH! _What_!" Barricade shuddered, not liking it when Frenzy startled him like that, fritzing in his audio at point blank range.

"Want a f-f-femme likelike Optimus had!" Frenzy put his three-fingered hand on Barricade's arm, pushing at him. Frenzy's optics were shining brightly. Barricade sighed, muttering. When Frenzy wasn't occupied with a pre-designated mission, the little hacker bot reverted to a kind of sparkling-like state. His CPU was so convoluted and blazingly fast, his higher CPU functions went to sleep when not being used, leaving him with a distinctly lowered functioning capacity.

"It's hard to find a femmebot now, Frenzy. You know that." Barricade grumped, reaching out a hand to snag his partner. Frenzy allowed himself to be picked up, draping his rod-like body over Barricade's bulky forearm. Frenzy sat up, swinging his legs in the air and leaning forwards to go optic-to-optic with the big mean Decepticon.

"Barri-c-c-cade find one forforfor Zee!" he demanded, banging one small fist on Barricade's shoulder armor.

"NO. Impossible, they're all gone," Barricade growled.

"ZZzzzt! Nonononono! FIND!" Frenzy hissed, the optic's on his antennae dancing madly.

Finally pushed past his patience point, Barricade snarled and flicked his arm upwards, throwing Frenzy through the air so the smaller bot did a somersault and crashed into the wall of the warehouse. A long stream of unpronounceable, glitching, swear-word filled, hacker speech violated the building - Frenzy spouting off his displeasure.

Barricade turned his head, snapping at the hacker, "Shut the frag up, Zee! There wouldn't be a female close enough to your size, anyway."

Frenzy went silent for a moment. Thinking. "But F-F-Frenzy havehavehave extendable BITS!" he burst out.

"Oh, I so did not want to hear that..." Barricade muttered darkly, covering his head with his arms, "Disgusting."

_Back at the Witwicky residence.._

Bumblebee shifted on his suspension uneasily, his car form creaking. He was parked on the rear driveway of Sam's house. Sam, Mikaela and himself had finished their illicit conversation; or rather, Mikaela had demanded that both of them shut up about penis size and Transformer sex, declaring she was tired and wanted to go home.

Sam had blinked at Bumblebee, shrugged and asked Bee if they could continue their talk later. Bumblebee had agreed. He needed recharge as well. Shifting into his car mode, he had begun to boot up his recharge program when a squeal from Mikaela made him pause. The squeals became panting moans. Sam's voice matched Mikaela's, making agreeable happy sounds.

The bed in Sam's room upstairs in the second level of the house made a few solid thumping bangs against the wall. Bumblebee's sensors registered the increasing temperature levels of his young charges. Didn't Sam know his parents were due back from their outing any minute? He should not be mating with the girl at this time!

He let his scanners flow over the pair, noting Sam's position underneath Mikaela – yet again. Didn't those two know any other positions? She was always on top of poor Sam! Talk about dominating. The girl was naked and writhing on top of him, over eager. The boy wasn't naked, he had merely had his pants yanked down by an over eager Mikaela, leaving his reproductive parts exposed and waiting to be mounted.

Bumblebee internally winced, feeling left out. Was everyone but him getting overloaded? Ironhide had satisfied females of multiple species hanging around all over the place, Optimus had gotten a LOT of interface eons ago (and not much since, apparently! Served him right for using it all up at once), his human friends were going at it as well - everyone was doing it! No, wait. Ratchet wasn't getting any interface either. The Camaro paused in his thinking, his overactive CPU presenting to him a remote possibility.

HOLY PRIMUS - _NO!_

Bumblebee's engine over-revved, smoke from burnt oil pouring out from his exhaust. He transformed with several clanking movements and got down on his hands and knees, banging his forehead with determination against the hard cement of the driveway.

"BEE?! Bumblebee! What's wrong?! Don't do that!" A breathless Sam (with his pants now returned to their place around his hips) was standing at his bedroom window, staring in stunned shock at his Guardian. Mikaela peered over his shoulder, clutching her clothes to her chest to cover her bare breasts.

"What is he doing?" she gasped.

"No, no, no, no, RATCHET, no, no, no," Bumblebee was saying over and over again.

Sam screwed up his face, "Ratchet? Bee, what are you talking about?"

Bumblebee finally stopped, collapsing onto his side and rolling over to sit cross-legged with his head in his hands, anguished, "I will not interface with Ratchet!" he cried hoarsely into his metal palms, rocking from side to side.

"Holy shit... did.. did he just say he won't fuck Ratchet?" Mikaela whispered.

Sam looked back and forth between his suddenly demented Guardian and his partially clothed girlfriend, "What, did Ratchet make a pass at him or something? How could we not notice something like THAT?"

"Gross!" Mikaela stuck out her tongue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Movie Star **

**Chapter 4 **

Optimus Prime lay awake. He was stretched out flat on his recharge berth in his quarters, staring at the ceiling. It was now several weeks past the time since his little recreational 'movie' had been released to the people of Earth. Things weren't going too bad, considering all the disastrous scenarios he _had_ been fearing; the Autobots kicked off Earth, the SecDef throwing them out of the United States, a massive groundswell of support for the Decepticons (since Autobots were, you know, so RUDE, with their Leader making a porn video), rabid adoring human women crowding the entrance/exit doors to the base wanting to see him... at least Ironhide would've been happy with THAT one.

Apart from the damn film making an appearance anywhere and everywhere all over the globe, accompanied by gasps/laughter/shock/horror from the humans, nothing much had changed. He got funny sideways looks from almost everyone he met, but that was as far as it went. Hardly any of them wanted to challenge or question the huge alien robot with the big gun who could rip your limbs off, or just step on you and casually say 'Oops' in vaguely sincere regret.

He could live with that.

He lifted his head, slowly looking down at the length of his body on the berth, lifting one long sculpted leg and strong thick arm experimentally to gaze at their structure and appearance. Rarely did he ever think of himself as some sort of female-fantasy-made-real or as Ironhide gleefully called him, a Femme Magnet. He used his strength and height to aid his role as the Autobot Leader, being easy on the optics or attractive in any way was just not something about himself he paid attention to very often.

His head dropped back down with a thump onto his berth and he put one of his hands to his face, "Ugh..."

Maybe the decorative flames he had covered himself with in this form were a bit too much...? Why on Cybertron had he done that? What was wrong with basic red and blue, he scolded himself. Oh, he knew why. It looked good! Intimidating, bold and daring. Let's make the Earthlings sit back in awe at the great leader from another planet! He should've told his evil vanity to take a hike and scanned an innocuous _black_ truck like Ironhide had done. Ironhide the I'll-fuck-anything-once mech.

After the first meeting with Sam and Mikaela in the alleyway; before they had transformed to leave for the Witwicky residence and hence, the glasses; Ironhide had stood stock still in front of him and pointedly looked him up and down, eyeing off his glaring flame decorations with raised optic ridges and crossed arms – then laughed his way through his own transformation into his plain GMC Topkick mode. Thank Primus Sam and Mikaela had already loaded themselves back into Bumblebee's car form and were oblivious to the Weapons Specialist's mirth.

Ratchet had rear-ended Ironhide with his huge Hummer Rescue vehicle form (and thick black bullbar) on their way out of the alley as payback, shoving the surprised Topkick a few feet along the pavement before Ironhide grumbled a 'Lay off, Ratch!' over the internal comlinks. Still, it had been nice to momentarily see Ironhide's rear end deformed before the mech had swiftly flattened out the organic metal back to normal again by following the configurations of his original scan in his memory.

Optimus sat up, smoothly letting his legs slide off the berth and his feet hit the floor. Enough musing. He had a meeting to attend to. The Autobots and humans (Sam, Mikaela, and Will Lennox, at least) would be gathering in the rec room for the weekly de-brief and catch-up.

Ironhide was the first to notice the subtle behaviour of Bumblebee. Ratchet had entered the rec room, walking over to stand; as he often did; next to the yellow scout. Bumblebee's optics had flared and he took one nervous-seeming step to the side, away from Ratchet. Sam and Mikaela, sitting on the human's couch, had burst into snickers and muffled chuckles. Ratchet was oblivious. He could have a very narrow focus, that medic.

Hide watched as Ratchet leant over to say something to Captain Lennox, and then straightened up, his movement bringing him closer to Bumblebee.

Again, the youngling stepped away, trying not to make it too obvious. It was more of a shuffle, really. Sam was clutching a cushion to his face and shaking, his knees drawn up to his chest. Mikaela's facial expression made her look like she was trying to hold back from expelling an object from her rear end.

As Optimus entered the room with long slow strides, Ratchet looked around to check they were all present and noticed a few odd looking dents in Bumblebee's forehead armor. "Bumblebee, were you in an accident?" he asked innocently, "what have you done to your head?" Reaching a hand out to touch the yellow bot, he jerked back in surprise when Bumblebee shrieked and took swift steps backwards away from Ratchet's hand. His optics blazed wildly. Ratchet followed him, moving in closer, curious. Bee darted sideways, running around to the other side of the human couch and crouching down, using it as laughable protection. He had placed his hands over his head and was whining softly.

"Bumblebee!" Ratchet put his hands on his hips, perplexed at the younglings behaviour.

Ironhide barked a few laughs, slapping a hand onto the medic's shoulder, "I don't think he wants you touching him, Ratch."

"Why not?" Ratchet's optic ridge's furrowed down.

"Primus knows why..." Ironhide shook his head, "But he's been moving away from you ever since you entered the room."

Bumblebee had by now snatched the cushion from out of Sam's hands and was holding it over his head. His blue optics blinked warily out from under it at Ratchet.

Optimus Prime stared at his cowering scout. "Bumblebee, come here."

Cautiously, Bumblebee moved to obey, taking small steps out from the couch, and sneaking over to his Leader. He was still holding the cushion between him and Ratchet's direction.

Prime sighed, looking down, "Please put down the object you are, uh, _shielding_ yourself with."

The cushion was dropped onto the floor, followed by Bumblebee squealing and dashing behind his massive upright Leader for protection when Ratchet took firm steps in his direction. Bumblebee held onto Optimus Prime's hips from behind, looking around them to watch what Ratchet was doing. His optics shone in the shadow cast by his enormous confused Commander.

Prime carefully tried to pry off Bumblebee's hands from his hips, but those small gripping hands would not be budged, "Bumblebee, let go, what is the problem?!" He shifted around, trying to see what was going on behind him. Bumblebee jerked him back into place. He was being used as shelter!

"I WON'T INTERFACE WITH RATCHET!" Bumblebee finally howled loudly in answer to Prime's question, crouching down and considering transforming his solar particle cannon into readiness. Anything to keep the medic from laying his dirty hands on his chassis!

A wild chorus of 'what!', 'you're joking!' and 'say that again?!' burst out from everyone in the room.

Ratchet froze in place, his head lifting up, expression shocked, "WHAT did you say?!"

Bumblebee was kneeling on the ground, arms over his head, and a chant of 'nononono' was once again coming from the worried little mech.

Optimus Prime met Ratchet's dumbstruck gaze, "Er, did you, uh, DO anything to him that he didn't want or ask for?" he asked awkwardly of his medic.

"NO!"

"Oh, right. Good. Okay then." Optimus patted the moaning Bumblebee on the head kindly, then looked over at Sam and Mikaela. "Can either of you shed some light on this situation? What is going on with Bumblebee?"

Sam shrugged, grinning, "We don't know any more than you do. He just suddenly a few nights ago started beating his head into the driveway yelling that he wouldn't interface with Ratchet."

Mikaela looked at Ratchet, eyeing him off with mock seriousness, "Are you a femme in disguise or something, Ratchet? A cross-dressing transgender robot? That might explain it. Maybe he's worried you'll jump him."

"Yeah," Sam added, "did he catch sight of you in a dress?" He started snickering.

Captain Lennox had stayed silent during all this. "This is one heck of a meeting..." he muttered, shaking his head with a roll of his eyes. He could've been at home eating freshly-made lasagne and watching stupid TV sitcoms with his wife and daughter, but oh no, instead he was watching Bumblebee cry behind Optimus while the others accused Ratchet of being a cross-dresser. Nice.

Ratchet had a scowl on his face that was threatening to overflow into tool throwing violence. "I have NOT, and WILL not, make any attempt at trying to interface with Bumblebee. I do NOT go for other mechs!" he growled.

Ironhide quirked an optic ridge, "Really? Because, damn, I was thinking you had a cute rear end, and I've seen you in the wash racks, I know you have a big-"

Ratchet hit him before he could finish the sentence. One swinging left hook. Right in the nose plates.

"OWW!" Ironhide grimaced, rubbing at his face. "You're fixing that!"

"Keep your interfacing deviancies and opinions to yourself, fragger!" Ratchet snapped angrily.

Optimus Prime groaned and looked down at his cowering soldier. He reached a hand out and snagged the armor behind Bumblebee's neck, lifting him upright. Bumblebee hung from his grip, blinking at him with enormous optics. "Bumblebee, why are you so worried about Ratchet touching you? Please, explain."

The Camaro looked around at the others in the room, nervously refusing to look at Ratchet, who had crossed his arms and was looking very miffed. Optimus set him down onto his feet and waited.

Bumblebee spoke slowly, trying not to let the urge to run overcome him, "Ratchet and I are the only one's who don't... who haven't... um..." He went silent, staring at the floor. How could he explain that when he went into recharge at night he had lurid dream sequences of Ratchet standing over him with his interface unit out and saying, 'Come on Bumblebee, you know you want to!'.

"Haven't _what_?" Ratchet demanded, trying to think of anything he and Bumblebee had been the only ones to NOT do. What was the fragging youngling yabbering about?!

"Ohhh, I know." Ironhide shook his head, grinning. "We're all getting some – or had some, had a LOT, in Prime's case – and he isn't. Neither are you, Ratch. Interfacing, I mean. The runt is worried you'll try to seduce him."

Bumblebee squealed again, starting to back up towards the door. Optimus stalled him with one leg planted firmly in his way. "Is that what this is all about?" he asked curiously, looking down at the yellow mech. Without looking at him, Bumblebee nodded miserably.

"Wait, I don't get it, do you want to interface with me or you don't?" Ratchet asked, confused.

"NO!" Bee yelled frantically.

"I'll do it," Ironhide offered helpfully.

That broke Bumblebee completely. He leapt in a stumble over Prime's leg and charged out the door to escape. They all heard his rapid transformation sequence and then the desperate spinning of his wheels as he accelerated away.

"Ironhide, you're not helping," Optimus said with a disgusted look at his Weapons Specialist.

Ironhide grinned, "I know. He's fun to tease. And hey, he is cute, even if he is, you know, small."

Sam clocked him in the head with a well-thrown cushion.

NEXT – there will be, uh, M-Rated type action in the next chapter. Couldn't quite work it into this one!


	5. Chapter 5

**Movie Star**

Authors Note: Please go read and review Plenoptic's brilliant Optimus/Elita fics (she's got quite a few of'em posted up now). Wonderful, big smile making, stuff. Good writing too. She's getting lots more reviews now, but she could always do with some more worship. ;-)

And now for the Ratchet/Ironhide interlude of 'Movie Star'. I did hint at this relationship in 'Mojo Mayhem' and a few reviewers picked up on it and commented. Well, here it is, read on! Enjoy.

**Chapter Five**

Ratchet was careful in the wash racks a few days later after the weird-as-all-get-out Bumblebee incident. He made sure he had complete privacy and little chance of interruption as he attempted to do a full clean and wash-out of his body, something which necessitated removing a few key pieces of armor. Ironhide was supposedly out on assignment with Captain Lennox. Bumblebee was at school with Sam, waiting in the carpark for his young charge.

Optimus Prime was doing... whatever he was doing with the main computer terminal in the medbay. Their Commander wasn't one to wander into the wash racks if someone was obviously using them. He liked to give others their privacy. Ironhide didn't. He charged in because he 'felt like it'. Bumblebee often came in because he wanted to chat excitedly about the latest, greatest thing he'd discovered or heard about.

Jazz used to come in and sing to himself while cleaning, bopping to some insanely loud music, to relax...

The medic diverted his thoughts away from their late, dearly missed, comrade and looked down at himself, carefully sliding open the casing in the lower portion of his abdomen which covered his own personal equipment. Ironhide had openly hinted at him having an overly large interface unit. Not that such things mattered to Transformers, that was entirely a human (and other organic species) infatuation to worry about. He narrowed his optics, looking down at his exposed unit, bringing out the thick long appendage with gentle fingers. He'd seen thousands of them in his career as a medic. Now that he thought about it, Ironhide was right. It was larger than average.

But, so what, Transformers didn't necessarily have to mate for reproductive purposes. Femmes didn't throw themselves at you because they thought you were 'huge' down there. Transformers shared pleasure, and since this was primarily carried out using body stroking and spark merging, the size of the interface unit was hardly of any consequence. True, mech's had an attachment that humans would have thought of as a 'penis', it looked similar; even the head of it was bulbous shaped; and femme's had a deep hollow port of inverse proportions, referred to as an interface receptacle or junction.

Placed together appropriately, the units were used to supplement the transfer of data and allow for a more 'coherent' spark merging process. The surge of emotions, memories, desire, and love, through the spark merge could be more easily controlled and manipulated when the interface unit was engaged with one's partner.

The use of the interface unit by itself was also a pleasurable experience, just not on the same spectacular level that spark merging was. Although, knowing Ironhide, Ratchet knew his dalliances with the alien females while they were in space all those eons, searching for the Allspark, would have almost entirely consisted of them caressing his spark casing – and fondling his interface unit with however many hands they could get around it. This would have allowed Ironhide to reach an overload of respectable proportions.

Ratchet smirked. He also knew that Ironhide had educated himself with intimate knowledge of how to pleasure other species, despite the size differences making it difficult. The pervert. If the Weapons Specialist wasn't occupied with blowing something up, he was blowing up females with pleasure. He hated to think what kind of impressions they were leaving behind after Ironhide had finished with the female populations of the various spaceports they'd visited while refuelling. Other races across the universe must think the Autobots were sex-starved deviants who liked to planet-hop while looking for new females to ravage.

Earth certainly thought so now, after the release of Optimus Prime's past exploits on DVD.

Ratchet hung his head down, bracing his arms on the wall and letting cleansing fluid flow down his chassis from the outlets above. Why didn't the Decepticons have trouble like this following them around? They seemed pure and innocent in their pleasure practices, compared to the lust-crazed, love-making, lets-get-it-on, Autobots.

"Are you finished yet?"

Ratchet gasped, shoving himself back off the wall and swivelling his head around to look behind him, one of hands coming up to block the fluid flow from obscuring his vision. Oh _pit_. Ironhide!

The mech was standing there. Watching him. His arms hung easily by his sides - sides that were splattered with mud. He obviously needed a wash. The faint indulgent smirk on his faceplates also expressed how he felt about discovering Ratchet with his interface unit exposed. The CMO had never worried about it before, being neutral about other mech's seeing him while using the wash racks, but after Ironhide's remark about him having a cute rear, and big unit... uh. This was uncomfortable.

Ratchet turned his back on the big black mech. "I'm almost done," he said flatly, reaching down to put himself back together.

One large hand crept around his waist, strangely nimble fingers reaching down to brush over his exposed unit. A wide strong body pressed itself up against his back. Armor pressed wilfully against armor. Ratchet stiffened. Freezing in place.

"I was thinking about what Bumblebee said," Ironhide murmured in his right audio, letting the side of his face rub against Ratchet's head. "I don't want to interface with you, but I can lend you a hand... if you are so inclined." Fingers wrapped suddenly around his unit and Ratchet's body flexed backwards. "You shouldn't have to go so long without having some sort of attention."

While one of Ironhide's hands rubbed and squeezed at his interface unit, his other hand came around his chest to flatten itself across where his spark chamber was situated. Ratchet's spark jumped eagerly. The medic groaned and swiftly followed it with a curse.

"I-I-... _you_... SLAG, no. No, no!" Ratchet surged out of Ironhide's grip, breaking the contact between their bodies, his air intakes wheezing. He stomped around to face the obnoxious mech. He expected a leer of titanic proportions to be on Ironhide's face. It was a shock to see a veneer of gentle calmness on his faceplates.

"Ratchet, I'm offering as a friend," Ironhide spoke smoothly. "Nothing more."

"What?" Ratchet's optic ridges furrowed down. He couldn't process this.

The cleansing fluid was still flowing from the ceiling, making a waterfall between them. Ratchet slammed a hand onto the off button, ceasing the flow. Gurgling drains and the sounds of dripping liquid filled the silence.

Ratchet stared at the motionless Ironhide, kicking his CPU into gear, "Let's put aside this being highly offensive and deserving of your own cannon shoved up your aft, for a moment, shall we?"

The big blemished warrior shrugged loosely, one of his cannon's vibrating with the movement.

"You never offered anything like this while we were on the _ARK_. All that time we were out there, why now? And why would I accept it?" Ratchet demanded. Oh yeah, he was angry. Affronted. And... curious. He didn't make a move to cover his exposed interface unit. He wasn't going to let Ironhide think it bothered him that much. "You're unbelievable! I can't begin to understand WHY you're trying this!""

"Ratchet." Ironhide's head cocked to the side, his optics dimming. "You talk too much. You need it, and I'm offering."

The medic frowned, growling, "I thought you didn't like mech's?"

"I don't. We're not merging sparks for Primus sake, this is just something I think you need. Don't deny it." Ironhide crossed his arms. Ratchet wondered how. That chest was so wide and huge it looked like he was dislocating his elbow joints to achieve it.

"And the others would never do this for you." Ironhide finished in a soft voice.

Ratchet tried to come back at him with a smart remark. _I wouldn't want the others to do_ _this to me!_ he cried to himself. He couldn't dredge anything up to fight back with. "This isn't right!" A small part of him was twitching with eagerness to let the mech do whatever he wanted.

"So? When are things ever right and perfect, Ratch?" He took a step forward, then halted. "Tell me no, and I'll leave. Otherwise," he lifted his head up proudly, "put up with me and enjoy it. You don't allow yourself enough pleasure, you dumb mech."

Ratchet's optics widened and brightened, his hands twitching, "Dumb?!"

"So throw something at me already, if that offends you," Ironhide chuckled, uncrossing his arms. Ratchet was sure he heard an abused arm joint mechanism pop back into place.

Ratchet's optics dimmed. He swayed on his feet uneasily.

"Ratch?"

"Go. Away." The medic's voice was laced with fury – and desire. Ironhide's stroking touch above his spark had been incredible. Maddening. Shocking, and ...wonderful. Primus, it had been _nice_. How could a mech like Ironhide make him feel _nice_? There was something wrong with that.

The black mech grunted, "Tell me 'no' if it upsets you that much. I promise not to offer myself again." Ironhide adjusted his stance, planting his legs wider. Waiting.

Ratchet's expression appeared frozen between anger and desire, "...guh..."

Ironhide squinted his optics. "What? Repeat yourself."

The CMO sagged forwards. One of his hands reached out to press on the wet wall. His optics switched off. Still he was silent.

Ironhide waved a dismissive hand at his friend, and turned to leave, "Forget it."

"...yes."

The response was so slight and soft, Ironhide thought he'd heard wrong. He turned back around, "Yes?" he asked, waiting for confirmation.

"Frag it, glitch, don't make me repeat that!"

Chuckling, Ironhide stepped forwards, snagged a big hand onto the black bars of Ratchet's Hummer form crossing his chest and yanked the medic to him in one abrupt movement. He looked down into Ratchet's surprised faceplates. He was only a handspans taller than the glitched medic. "You made the right decision." The rumbled words caused vibrations to cross from his chest to Ratchet's and the Weapons Specialist's optics dimmed, turning a darker shade of blue.

Ratchet yelped when he was turned around far too quickly and yanked back against Ironhide's chest yet again. The bigger mech settled himself leaning back against the wall, chassis creaking. His arms held Ratchet comfortingly enclosed. His substantial legs moved outwards to allow space for Ratchet between his thighs.

Ratchet moved uneasily. Ironhide's arms tightened, keeping him still.

"What... what if O-Optimus-" Ratchet stuttered.

"He won't."

"But he might-!"

"He _won't_." Ironhide paused, thinking. "As long as I don't make you scream too loud."

"SCREAM?!"

"Are you a mech or a sparkling, for pit's sake?" Ironhide growled in Ratchet's audio. His left hand reached down and laid itself flat on Ratchet's upper chest armor. He pressed his hips into Ratchet's rear, causing the medic to arch his hips away uneasily. ::Gotcha:: Ironhide latched his right hand onto Ratchet's exposed interface unit where it had been pushed even further outwards from his body. His thumb pressed into the end of it while his palm and fingers clenched it tightly.

"Oh Primus, MECH! _Mech_!" Ratchet squeaked. Ironhide's simultaneous touch to his chest and unit was getting him too hot, too fast. He struggled within the bigger mech's grasp and was responded to with a harsh grunt and tighter arms.

"Good." Ironhide concentrated on pressing and touching his fingers into Ratchet's chest, working himself in and around the armor and prominent black Hummer bullbar. Changing tactics, he explored underneath the gaps in the armor and found some glossy wires to play with. Wires that led down and around Ratchet's spark casing in a cosy jumble. He thumbed and squeezed along their length happily, and then concurrently leaned down, pressed Ratchet's head to one side with a shove of his forehead to Ratchet's head armor and ran his mouthplates along the uncovered wires of his neck. Back and forth. Touching and nibbling.

Ironhide smirked at the sudden wheezing moan emitted by the Rescue Hummer. He locked his thighs into place and braced backwards harder to the wall, holding the medic still and taking more of his weight. His frame could handle it.

The medic's thighs started to tremble. Heck, most of him was shaking. His head moved from side to side. His spark was beginning to pulse waves of bright blue light erratically. His hands grabbed onto Ironhides prominent, cannon-bearing forearms from underneath them. Hard. Hydraulics hissed. Small groans and startled whimpers began coming from his vocal modulator.

"Easy... not too quick," Ironhide lifted his head and murmured to his friend. His own spark was waking up to the situation and beginning to clamour for attention. He made a backwards flick of his forefingers to one of Ratchet's multiple headlights, then pressed his palm over the headlight he'd touched, rubbing in circles. Ratchet jerked and shuddered.

Ironhide lifted another hand and grasped Ratchet's chin, turning his head so they could look optic-to-optic. The black mech looked amused, assessing the state of his wild-optic plaything. Ratchet just panted air through his intakes harshly, blinking. "You're far too easy to manipulate, medic," he purred.

"Uh!"

"Yeah, too easy." Holding one arm across Ratchet's chest, he drifted the fingers of his other hand down Ratchet's side with light touches. Smooth, light; then hard and gripping. Alternating pressure. Probing armor spaces. Stroking wires. Ratchet's body jerked. It slid down a fraction as his legs decided staying upright was too much work. Ironhide lifted him back up again before he went too far, shifting the strong delectable chassis that was Ratchet back into place.

"Stay with me, Ratch."

"..._uhh_..."

Ironhide squinted one optic and shook his head. So easy. He tapped one pointed finger against Ratchet's chest. "Open for me."

Chestplates opened outwards and slid sideways, transforming. The medic's optics switched off entirely. His shaking was spasmodic now. Body beginning to writhe.

"T-turn... me... around..." Ratchet panted softly.

"No."

"No?!"

"No. I don't do frontways with mechs. No spark merging. We're both mechs, remember?"

Ratchet pushed his head back against Ironhide's shoulder in a rubbing motion. His weightless feet dragged with restless motion back and forth over the floor beneath him. "Help me... need it..."

Ironhide gazed down softly at his ages-old friend. Why had he not thought of Ratchet's needs before? Offered to share some friendly females with him? The glorious uncovered spark in Ratchet's chest was pulsing. Throbbing. A few touches and it would practically burst. So obvious. The damned scary CMO had needed holding and touching for too long, he really needed to make sure he never let him go so long without some form of intimate attention, ever again.

"Here we go..." Ironhide bent his head down over Ratchet's shoulder in an almost loving gesture. He concentrated. One hand entered the cavity of his friend's chest. Fingers danced and stroked over the incredibly vibrant spark, causing dramatic energy flares. Ratchet began to give hoarse yells, struggling. Ironhide held him still and played with the spark flares, letting the tendrils latch onto his fingertips and be drawn outwards or simply twisted around his hand until they fell back into Ratchet's spark and another willing flare appeared.

Finally, sensing that any more playing would be torture - not pleasure - he prepared to make one last combined gesture. Ironhide placed his other hand onto Ratchet's interface unit, cradling it with his palm.

"Now."

One swift plunge of his fingers straight into the centre of the spark's crackling outer field. One firm squeeze of the interface unit with an enclosed gripping hand.

Overload.

Ratchet _SCREAMED_.

Light flared in a wide arc from his open chest. His body convulsed against Ironhide. Another scream. A few more moments. One more scream. Ratchet's head dropped forwards abruptly, and his body slid down onto the floor, guided gently by the Weapon Specialists tender embrace. He appeared almost lifeless. Ironhide crouched behind him, his hands resting on Ratchet's slumped shoulders as a moan of incredulity came from the overloaded medic.

"Like that?" Ironhide chuckled, arching an optic ridge.

"Ohhh..." The senseless moan conveyed Ratchet's feelings.

"Good."

_In the rec room..._

Optimus Prime lay back on the Big Bot Couch. Ankle-crossed-over-ankle, hands in his lap, lazily staring at the ceiling overhead. He was waiting for his planned communications call from the ex-SecDef, John Keller.

Ratchet – a very clean and sparkly Ratchet – came stumbling past him, apparently on his way to his quarters down the next hallway.

Optimus sat up, cocking his head at his CMO. "You're, uh, very polished up, Ratchet. Long shower?"

Ratchet wobbled to an unsteady halt, wide optics staring at his amused Commander. "I shall never say a bad word against Ironhide again... just incredible... you have no idea... really... _NO_ idea.." The medic kept muttering as his legs started moving again; somehow; and he disappeared down the hall to his quarters, bumping off the walls. He couldn't seem to walk straight.

"Oh yes. All the screaming. Mmmm. Ironhide is good, isn't he?" Optimus smirked. "Bumblebee didn't know what he was talking about when he turned him down."


	6. Chapter 6

**Movie Star**

Authors note: Sorry if I confused people with the previous chapter. Yes, I did write Ironhide as being the 'I'll fuck anything once' mech. And then had Ratchet saying, "I don't do mech's!" and yet, Ironhide offers himself to Ratch and the poor medic throws himself in his arms. Almost. Heh.

Ratchet hadn't had any pleasure from another bot for eons. Millennia, maybe. Mech or femme, whatever, when Ironhide touched him, he wanted it. His CPU glossed over who and what was doing the touching, and just demanded attention to his spark.

As a dedicated medical officer, Ratchet gives, and gives, and GIVES – not getting or taking anything in return. Yeah, Ratchet gets pleasure from helping others, but it isn't the same as spark pleasure. Ironhide sees that as a problem.

Ironhide is a passionate mech. He WILL fuck anything, mech or femme, he just doesn't _spark join_ with a mech. It's hand manipulation only. He'll use agreeable mech's for mutual pleasuring when femmes are inaccessible, because Ironhide lives for pleasure, wether by using his cannons on Decep's or going for spark overload. In his optics, Ratchet had denied himself pleasure for too long, and Ironhide got to thinking that someone needed to show him the error of his ways, and stop him being such a medical martyr. So he freely gave him the spark overload of his (long) life, and hopes it will stimulate him (cough!) to go searching for such an experience with a femme. When one shows up!

Yes, Ironhide can be stranger than anyone realises.

I'm not explaining myself very well... sorry... oh well, next chapter! A lot of talking in this one. More 'M' rated stuff coming in chapter 7.

**Chapter 6**

Ratchet came out of his recharge cycle in his personal quarters lying on his back with an aching chest. He looked down at himself, hovering one hand over his chestplates and poking gently with one stiff finger. He couldn't remember being hit with anything. Why did it hurt so much? What had he done to – oh. Yeah. That. _That_ with Ironhide. Slag it.

He sat up, swivelled, and dropped his legs to the ground, sitting silently, his upper body crouched over while he looked the floor. This was just going to be so weird. To think that Ironhide, of all the mech's he'd ever known, had been the one to offer such personal intimate services. Holy pit, he didn't want to process this. Now he sort of knew what Optimus was going through with that dang-blasted movie. Intimate things were so difficult to deal with.

Rubbing one hand over his head, he stood up. He noticed that the weakness in his knees had subsided. He'd been too high to worry about the way he'd rebounded off the walls of the corridor and stumbled over his own feet on his way to his quarters last night after Ironhide had... he'd... touched... oh Primus.

He'd never done it standing up before.

Trust the Chief Medic of the Great Autobot Cause to be so slow at finding out the tingling after-effects of spark manipulation while being upright. The data was in his CPU. It wasn't as if he didn't damn well KNOW. It had just never applied to HIM before. First hand experience could be a glitch sometimes.

He made it to the medbay. Sort of hoping that Ironhide was where he usually was in the mornings – sitting at a bench, sipping a small portion of high-grade (how could he DO that first thing after waking from recharge?) and reviewing the humans internet and other information sources for Decepticon activity.

Ironhide was indeed there. How could anyone miss that chunk of scary blackness in a room? He wasn't sitting and sculling high-grade though. He was standing. With his arms crossed. Leaning back against the bench. Optics shrewd and glowing. Waiting.

Ratchet gave the Weapons Specialist such a disturbed look of admiration mixed with wariness that Ironhide chuckled.

"Morning Hatchet."

Ratchet walked right past the big mech, heading for his instrument bench on the other side of the room. "...Morning..." he muttered in reply.

Ironhide pushed himself away from the bench and turned to watch the medic reach up to grab a tool. A harsh wince crossed Ratchet's faceplates, causing his hand to cease motion mid-reach.

"Better be careful with that. You'll be painful for a cycle or two."

Ratchet turned to face his friend. Fine. He brought it up first. "I think we better talk."

Ironhide ducked his head away, cringing, "Slag it, don't be like a neurotic femme, Ratch! We don't need to have a simpering talk."

"I do not 'simper'!" Ratchet's optics slanted down to flashy blue slits.

"Sure ya do! You simpered for me just fine," Ironhide decided to cut this charade really short. He didn't want a dramatic opera scene.

He stomped over to the medic, backing him up against the bench behind him with each threatening footfall. "You needed it badly, I offered it, you accepted it, you got it, you LIKED it, and I don't think we'll ever do that again." Ironhide's face got close up to Ratchet's own. Close enough to hear circuitry hum. "Stop acting like if you ever enjoy something for the pure hell of it, some God from the Matrix will smite you down with a frigging laserbolt."

Ratchet's mouth opened, "But..."

"You don't have to be the self-serving hero with a neglected spark, Hatchet. Don't you dare whine or I'll get Prime to process you as mentally deficient."

"...GLITCH!"

"Are you two going at it again? Would you like me to leave the room?" Optimus Prime offered ever so graciously, pausing inside the medbay entrance. He'd entered the medbay and stopped short at seeing his two soldiers optic-to-optic in a private discussion.

Both mech's gave him disgusted, lip-curling looks.

"...I'll come back later then." Optimus wandered happily away, looking for something to do. If they wanted to bump chassis in the medbay he wouldn't interfere. Make love, not war, and all that. Humans had such nice sayings.

Ironhide turned his attention back to Ratchet. "Gimme that," he grabbed up one of the medic's five fingered, elegant hands from where it clung with a death grip to the bench. "So you don't do mech's, fine, I don't do mech's very often, what I did was remind you of what your own body is capable of when someone else manipulates it. You don't ever see another bot as a source of pleasure or intimate companionship, just something to fix. It's gone on for too long. You need someone, Ratch, just don't think of me like that unless you're desperate enough to cut off your own leg."

He paused, holding up the captured hand to Ratchet's confused optics. "The next Autobot femme we find is going to love these hands of yours. Or else. They're too gorgeous to waste. You understand me?"

Ratchet tugged his hand from Ironhide's firm grip. "You're strange in the head, you know that?"

"Yeah, I need to be. You needed a kick in the aft, slaghead. Me being a mech or no, you _melted_ under a mere touch to your spark casing. You couldn't hold out. That's not right. You should be more experienced for your age."

Ratchet looked stunned.

"What?" Ironhide asked.

Ratchet growled, "I have no slagging idea what you've just been talking about."

Ironhide cuffed him on the shoulder, smirking, "Yeah you do. The next femme. Yours. Not mine." The mech turned and began to walk away.

"Hide."

A grunt. "Yeah?"

"I won't say thank you, but..." Ratchet couldn't look straight at him for what he had to say next. "You're good at what you do. I under-estimated your talents." His head lifted, "Promise me something?"

Ironhide arched an optic ridge. Promise's now? Ratchet was learning.

"Don't you dare go initiating Bumblebee! He can find his own way."

"Sure." A snicker. "Cute little bot... if only he was a femme. He's got an aft like one."

"IRONHIDE!!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Movie Star**

**Chapter 7 **

_A few weeks after the Ironhide and Ratchet 'shower' incident..._

Maggie Madsen was working on her latest project. If she got this presentation absolutely spot-on, and managed to impress even more high-ranking butt's than she had already, she was sure SecDef Keller would recommend her for the promotion the department had available. Positive. It was just that, well, you know, hackers shouldn't have to work with retarded programs like Microsoft!

She slammed a fist on the rec room table, interrupting the companionable working silence in the Autobots rec room, "Stop fucking with my layout, Excel! PowerPoint doesn't pull this crap, why do you?!"

Mikaela looked up from bending over her final year homework, raising an eyebrow. At the next (Transformer-sized) table over, doing his own necessary official paperwork, Optimus Prime paused, cocking his head to the side, looking at the small blonde cranky woman.

"Trouble with your computer, Ms Madsen?"

"Maggie. It's Maggie. I don't call you Mr Optimus." The blonde was on the point of growling and throwing off sparks. "And yes, this piece of... piece of... FUCK knows what, needs a lesson in how to be an _acceptable computer_!"

Mikaela giggled, hiding her face behind her forearm and snorting.

The optic ridges on Optimus Prime's face rose up to their highest point. "Oh. I believe you require what you humans call, time out. Or a coffee break."

Maggie glowered, the fingers of her fist on the table opening and closing. "Don't drink coffee. Drink Chai Tea. Double sugar." Her words were short and clipped. She paused. "Got some?"

"I honestly have no idea." He looked at Mikaela, she would know the contents of the human's makeshift food room better than he did. "Do we?"

"Nope. Regular tea only. There's hot chocolate sachet thingies, you know, the low calorie kind," Mikaela offered hopefully.

"Grrrr..."

Optimus tried to think of something more helpful to say to the frustrated woman when Bumblebee came stumbling into the room, headed to the nearest bot-sized chair and plonked himself down into it, a flabbergasted expression on his face. He didn't seem to notice the others in the room. He appeared very shocked, and sad.

"Bumblebee?" Optimus enquired softly, "Is everything okay?"

Mikaela thought of how much Optimus acted like everyone's mother, or father, considering he was a male transformer. Yup, one big mothering teddy bear hoping to fix the world with kind smiles, reassurance, a hug and a huge don't-fuck-with-me rifle for whatever he couldn't fix with words.

Bumblebee stared at his Commander. His optics blinked, dimming. He rocked a little in his chair and shook his head, looking miserable.

"Bee?" Optimus rose from his chair, approaching the yellow mech. Bumblebee was acting very un-Bumblebee like. Something was up. Prime patiently pulled a chair over next to Bumblebee and sat himself down upon it. He had all the time in the world for the lovable youngling. If something was upsetting his Bee, he was most definitely going to fix it.

"Bumblebee, please, tell me."

Bumblebee looked over at Mikaela and Maggie. He was okay with speaking in front of Mikaela, she was as good a friend as Sam was. He just didn't know about Maggie.

Mikaela got up, "We'll leave, lemme just get my stuff, you guys need some-"

"Stay, Mikaela." Bee's words were a whisper. "You too Maggie. Humans are better at this than we are, I think."

Maggie looked uncertain, holding onto the back of her chair with both hands.

Mikaela approached him with careful steps, "Better at what?"

"Sex. Intimate things."

Optimus refused to let his faceplates move, he wanted to appear completely unaffected. His hands twitched though. Sex was upsetting Bumblebee? Primus, how?

"Bee, you're not making a whole lot of sense right now." Mikaela looked up at him quizzically. "You guys don't do sex like we do. And what's so upsetting about it?"

Bumblebee looked down at the floor, thought for a little bit, and looked up. "You'd be upset if you caught Ironhide and Ratchet in the middle of it."

"_WHAT_!" Mikaela screeched.

Maggie let go of her chair with numb fingers. It hit the ground with a crash. Her jaw was swinging wide and "Wha... guh..'' sounds were coming from it.

Optimus sat back in his chair, nodding. "I know about that already. I do understand about how seeing them doing it would be... upsetting. It's not an image I'd want in my processor, I must admit."

Mikaela looked like she'd vomited a lung, grabbing at her chest and bending over, mouth open, "Ratchet?! And _Ironhide_?!" She couldn't see it. Just could not see it. Ironhide was a huge black macho thing, and yeah, Ratchet was a strong, good looking, stereotypical male type, in his own way (you had to look sideways and squint to see it), but, she would've thought of those two doing it with femmes, not each other! They seemed the perfect 'grab a beer and grab a woman with the free hand' type of guys. Kill a few things, find a willing female and get it on. Not nancy-pancy gay types.

"Was this in the washracks?" Optimus asked curiously of Bumblebee.

"No. Medbay." Bee cringed. "Ratchet was on the table, Ironhide was, was, uh, _on_ him. On top."

"Medbay. Right." The Leader frowned. Were those two going to be trying out every room and facility in the base? He'd have to put his foot down and make rules. He hadn't thought he would be doing that until some females arrived. Trust Ironhide to stuff up that idea.

Bumblebee put his hands to his face, covering his optics, "I should've known, I shouldn't have gone in there, the noises they were making, it was obvious. I just didn't think they would be doing that, you know." He paused. "I wish I hadn't walked in."

Amazingly, Maggie was the one consoling Mikaela, patting a hand on her shoulder. Being a female computer nerd had exposed her to a lot of things. Girls just didn't do computers the way she did, she was used to breaking traditions and seeing things differently from others. Gay love wasn't abnormal or unusual for her. Gay robots? Okay, that was different. She couldn't see Optimus humping Ironhide or any other male robot, but Ratchet and Ironhide? The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a good fit. They echoed each other.

Optimus sat back, rubbing at his forehead with one hand. "Ironhide told me he wouldn't go near Ratchet again. I wonder what changed?"

Mikaela's eyes looked like they were going to jump from her head and ping-pong around the room, "They've done this before?!"

"Yes," Optimus nodded, "A few Earth weeks ago. They weren't quiet about it, but since I was the only one in the base at the time, it wasn't an issue."

"Mikaela, careful," Bumblebee held his hand out to her back, the girl was swaying on her feet, looking like she was about to fall.

"I'm okay, don't worry-" she stumbled backwards, making a lie of her own words, "No I'm not," she mumbled, thankful for Bumblebee's safe hand keeping her upright. "Ugh."

Maggie hopped up on the human table, sitting on it and allowing her legs to swing back and forth, "I don't see a problem with this-"

Bumblebee moaned.

"Ah, yes, except for actually seeing it, in the flesh, or metal, so to speak," Maggie laughed, "Love is good, right?"

"What if it isn't love? What if it's just fooling around, having fun?" Mikaela asked.

"See, told you they knew about sex," Bumblebee innocently said to Optimus.

"Bumblebee, if helps you at all, I've been with another woman." Maggie looked at the upset Autobot, hoping it would help.

"You have?" Bumblebee peered at her. "I can picture that. Two females would be nice. Especially beautiful ones." His optics flickered in distress, re-living his experience, "Ironhide and Ratchet are not beautiful or female. They are my friends."

Maggie winked, "Oh, so that's the problem."

Mikaela put in her two cents to the intently listening robots, "Hey, guys don't see each other as beautiful, just who has the biggest muscles or fastest car or whatever, but, you know, from a female point of view, I think both Ironhide and Ratchet are handsome."

Optimus smirked, "You do? Ironhide would be pleased to hear that. I hope you don't tell him, we wouldn't hear the end of it."

Mikaela began to look very devious, twirling a lock of hair from her ponytail around her finger. "You're very handsome, Optimus."

Optimus' optics flared, going wide. He looked around the room, embarrassed, "Uh, oh, thank you Mikaela."

The girl nudged Bumblebee's leg, "But not as cute as my Bumblebee. Sorry."

Bumblebee brightened up. The female thought he was cute! Cool!

Maggie looked up at the huge, suddenly self-conscious Autobot Leader. "Did I tell you I'd seen some bits of that movie you made? I didn't watch all of it, just some of it."

Mikaela laughed, "You saw BITS? Which _bits_, Bumblebee won't let me or Sam watch it."

Leaning forward, Optimus put his elbows on his knees and sighed, "Everyone has seen it, it isn't a big deal any more, believe me." He wasn't upset.

"You know, you took all that very calmly. If someone put a video of me having sex on the internet I'd freak and move to my own desert island. Or Cleveland." Mikaela told him. She hadn't dared speak to Optimus about his porn movie before. Maggie brought it up first! She was just moving things along.

"Who was that female? Did you know her? A girlfriend or something?" Maggie asked, curious. She wanted to know more about Transformer relationships. Or more about what Optimus had done in that film.

"No, I didn't know who she was before we were employed together. She was an actress. Her name was Ecstasy. I never saw her again."

Mikaela snorted into her hand. Bumblebee coughed, unsuccessfully trying not to laugh, a few chuckles got through.

"What were those flashes of light? Some sort of mechanical orgasm? Flares or similar?" Maggie continued, having no shame.

"Spark overload. Somewhat like your orgasms, I think, not having been organic I can't compare it that well." Optimus wasn't worried. He was merely relaying information. It wasn't like the human females wanted to interface with him.

... or did they?

Mikaela and Bumblebee looked back and forth between Optimus Prime and Maggie, like a tennis match, hopeful the rally would continue.

"Ratchet was saying Ironhide has been with organics." Mikaela said uncertainly. "Is that true?"

Optimus hesitated, then frowned. "That is correct. Ironhide is unusual, he likes females of any species."

Mikaela and Maggie shared a look. Maggie looking haughty, Mikaela appearing scared.

"Oh." Maggie grinned. "Really."

It only took Optimus Prime a microsecond to catch on. "If he offends you in any way, please inform me. I will put him in his place."

Maggie shook her head, smiling, "Why would he want us when he has Ratchet to play with?"

"You don't know Ironhide..." Optimus muttered, looking away. When it came to females, that mech was trouble. A whole planet of it.

_The next morning..._

Ratchet and Ironhide pretty much avoided him for the next day, leaving Optimus some much appreciated personal time. There was one thing he had been wanting to work on – his human holoform. Ironhide and Bumblebee were the only ones who used their alternate forms with any regularity. Optimus thought it would be useful in his relations with the United States Government officials if he could learn to manipulate it a lot better.

Using a generic human image as a tester, he'd had trouble before keeping it solid, and turned on. Not nice to go for a handshake, and find your partner gripping uselessly at the hand of a ghost. Or completely disappearing mid-sentence during a meeting.

Optimus got himself comfortable on his recharge berth and switched on his holoprojector. The tall form of a naked older man appeared at the end of the berth. Mid-forties, dark haired, 6ft 4in, hairless broad flat chest, sparkling blue eyes, thick powerful thighs, long narrow nose. Wide clear cut jaw.

He studied himself, adjusted a few things (more muscle, isn't that what Mikaela had said females liked? He pumped up his arms and chest) and checked himself out. Comparing his holoform to internet pictures of human males, he was satisfied. He thought he looked quite good. Then he noticed a missing part. His crotch was smooth.

Oh.

Well, okay, better fix that. A small penis and two hanging testicles appeared on his holoform. That was better; after he had adjusted his penis so it wasn't hanging from where his fake bellybutton was. Humans kept their reproductive equipment much lower than Transformers did. Only Primus knew why; wouldn't it get squashed between the legs?

He checked the internet again, comparing himself. Oops. His penis was too small. Small was not a good look. Other men dissed you as not worthy and women ignored you. The internet was such a useful tool. Alright, so, eight inches was considered a very good length for a penis.

He'd go for ten. Just to be sure.

There. That was better. Except now the two balls looked like peanuts. He fixed them, pumping them up. Much more appropriate to the tree trunk they were hanging below.

Something else was missing... clothes! Primus. Humans did not appear naked. Searching the internet he came up with the 'uniform' male humans liked best. Blue jeans and a tight white t-shirt. With either black cowboy boots or high-tech sneakers. He went with red sneakers, he had to keep something of his colors, at least. He flirted with the notion of making himself look younger and decided against it. He should look older. Humans placed more faith in 'older males', something Optimus certainly was.

Great. Now he was ready. Maggie was turning up that afternoon to test-drive her presentation on him before she used it for her job application. Perfect. He would have something to test drive on her as well.

His holoform self.

**NEXT:** Maggie gets acquainted with Optimus Prime's human holoform, in ways she didn't expect... ::COUGH::


	8. Chapter 8

**Movie Star **

Authors Note: Warning! Naked holoform Transformer ahead! Yes, it's Optimus Prime in the buff, but no sex, sorry. Just wanton ignorant nakedness. Heh.

**Chapter 8 **

Maggie trudged into the rec room, the bag on her shoulder weighed down with her laptop and papers. Ironhide had given her a strange look on her way into the base, looking her up and down, saying hello and smirking faintly. She'd stopped, muttered a distracted greeting and then glanced pointedly at him, her eyebrows rising up in a questioning stare. The big male mech had shaken his head and stalked off with a flippant wave of one hand.

Right, okay. She wasn't sure if he was sizing her up for sex, or, that _he_ knew that _she_ knew he was doing naughty things with Ratchet, after Bumblebee had so kindly blabbed to the humans of his secret activities with the resident medic. Whatever. She was here to get Optimus Prime to preview her work presentation, not find out more about Ironhide the Slut.

"Hello, Maggie."

"Huh?"

Her head whipped around, looking up. That was definitely Prime's voice, but she couldn't see him.

"Down here."

She looked down, her eyes snagging on a tall good-looking guy with lots of muscle standing in the doorway to the rec room with his hands clasped behind his back. Whoa. Those jeans were _tight_. And revealing! What the hell was that bulge at his crotch? She knew guys stuffed socks or something down there, but this looked like the guy had bought a super-sized packet of ten socks and jammed the entire lot down his jeans! Christ! That was... oh shit. It couldn't be. No way. Damn.

"Optimus?" Maggie squeaked.

The man's face brightened, "You like it? It's my holoform. I thought it might be more useful for talking to you at ground level." Glowing blue eyes looked out at her from under a dark jagged fringe of shiny hair.

"...guh!" Maggie's eyelids fluttered. Jesus.

Optimus' holoform walked towards her, "Are you okay?" he hesitated, his feet going motionless, "I hope I haven't offended you, I thought you could give me your opinion on how I look. I'm still new to this."

"Ummm... yeah. Mmmm. You look... good."

Fuck. How did she say he looked like a male God made real? He was sending her female responses into overdrive. Could she jump him? WOULD she jump him? She knew Bumblebee teased Mikaela with his holoform, but if Optimus started that shit with her, she'd faint. She thought she was immune to handsome guys coming onto her – she'd been wrong.

Optimus looked down, where Maggie was looking. "Is it my shoes? They're too red, aren't they? I can tone them down a bit, although I do like bright red. Pity."

Maggie stared at him, thunderstruck. Could he really be so clueless? She wasn't looking at his damn sneakers! That crotch size was obscene. The combination of his groin and those massive muscular thighs stretching the 'fabric' of his tight jeans, made him appear as if his clothing was one wrong step away from bursting off his skin. Maggie ran a nervous hand down her shirt front. Her nipples were on alert, and sticking out through her flimsy cotton top. Would he notice? She supposed he would, since he was no longer as tall as an office block.

"Maggie?"

Optimus had come up next to her and was standing to her left, looking at her and appearing anxious. "Are you sure this is okay? Have I done everything correctly? Could I pass as a real human?"

She sighed, rubbing at her eyes with one hand. She wanted to lean forward, put her palms on his wide chest and snuggle up for some deep loving. Up close he was even more devastating. That whole powerful aura he had as a huge robot had been condensed down into his holoform, he radiated a dominating strength and easy male assurance that was breathtaking, all wrapped up in a package of genuine kindness and concern. "Optimus, if you have to know, you're too perfect. You'll have women freaking out and falling at your feet."

He took a hesitant step backwards, his expression worried, "I have no wish to cause concern or harm, perhaps I had better go back and revise my appearance-"

"NO! No, look, if you really want to know what the problem is," she took a deep breath, _C'mon Maggie, you can do it_, "You've made your crotch a bit too big. Like, massive. Being a bit smaller would be less intimidating. That bit doesn't look natural, you know?"

Optimus frowned, thinking, his hands perched on his jean-clad hips.

Then his clothes disappeared.

"HOLY SHIT! _Optimus_!" Maggie freaked, slapping her hands over her eyes and turning her back abruptly. Bloody hell, she'd thought that thing was huge before, but from the quick glimpse she'd gotten, unrestrained, it was massive. Elephants had nothing on this Autobot. What had Optimus been thinking? More to the point, what sex sites had he been looking at to make it that huge?! Not only was it long, it had a width to make women cross their legs and shiver.

Prime was confused. "I'm not real, Maggie, therefore I cannot be that offensive to you. I would very much like some input in how big my 'crotch' should be to not cause embarrassment to you or myself in front of others. I understand that crotch size is an extremely important issue among male humans, I need to get this right. Can you assist me?"

When she stayed turned away from him and groaned, Optimus realised his mistake. "I apologise, I will clothe myself and ask Ironhide to assist."

"ARGH! God no! He's demented! He won't help!" She turned back around, keeping one hand shielding her eyes.

"Then Ratchet-"

"No, not Ratchet either." The female groaned, banging the heel of her hand on her forehead, eyes squeezed shut. "You need human female help. That's me. I'll do it."

"But I do not wish to make-"

"What, you don't think I've seen a naked male before?" Maggie shook her head. "I know what a proper-sized penis looks like. Stay as you are. Please."

After a moment, a soft 'thank you' came from the Autobot Leader. He waited for her to look up.

Maggie let her hand drop down, slowly opening her eyes. Good God, what a sight. Utter perfection – apart from the third arm hanging between his legs. His muscular thighs were braced apart, giving her a clear look at his problem. Not only was his penis way too big, he had supersized tennis balls for testicles. He also had no hair down there.

"Uh."

"Yes?" Optimus looked at her with concern, the stream-lined muscles of his torso and thighs rippling and shifting as he moved his body weight from one supporting leg to another. "Tell me what to do. I will listen."

"Ummm..." The thin, light-colored summer cargo pants she had on were going to get very dark and sweaty between the legs, the way she was madly lubricating through her panties. This was insane. "You could lose an inch. Or two." She gulped.

"Okay." His penis retracted by a small amount, now looking more normal, but still large.

"And make it less wide. It's too thick."

"Done." The thickness shrank. "Better?"

Maggie eyed him off, becoming more bold. Heck, she hadn't asked him to be naked, he'd done that himself. She was damn well going to enjoy this. Why shouldn't she? "Your balls need to go smaller."

Optimus blinked, looking confused, shifting his weight from one hip to the other, "My what?"

"The testicles. Your testicles, too big, make them smaller."

Prime looked down at himself with a critical eye. Maggie knew what she was talking about. He put his hand to himself and began to lift up his penis with gentle fingers, the oversized head sitting comfortably in his cradling fingers.

"STOP! God!" Maggie turned around again. Her shoulders were shaking. "What are you touching it for?!" If he got an erection, she was going to be the first human woman to fuck a holoform alien. She was going to go for him like nobody's business. And more than once.

"I couldn't see my testicles clearly. I need to look, my penis was in the way. Am I not allowed to touch myself?" Optimus was once again looking confused. He had clearly told her the holoform was not real. What he did with it should not be causing her so much distress.

"Oh, _Christ_." Maggie was whimpering with both hands over her eyes. She wondered how to hide a screaming orgasm while being upright, fully clothed and a handspan away from the naked object of your fantasy.

"Maggie."

"Oh God..."

"Maggie!"

"What!"

"I have reformed my clothes. You can look now."

The woman carefully looked up, lowering her hands. He was once again wearing tight blue jeans, a clinging white t-shirt, and his crotch looked a whole lot more satisfactory now. Any female looking down there would still KNOW he was huge, it just wasn't so in-your-face now. She jumped when a pair of Ray-Ban Aviator sunglasses appeared on his face.

"Oh. These are good." Optimus peered around the room. "I can see everything," he walked past Maggie, "and I can look where I want to but you can't see what I'm looking at. Nice black bra, Ms Masden. Do you have panties to match?"

Maggie's mouth opened and closed like a glitched fish.

"Sorry," Prime's head bowed in apology, "I was acting too much like Ironhide there, wasn't I? I couldn't resist. Having a human holoform is fun." He grinned wide enough to put Tom Cruise to shame.

... then he blinked out.

A loud "Slag it, lost it again" in a more recognisable robotic voice came floating in from the other room. Followed by heavy footsteps. Optimus Prime's normal huge form came striding through the Autobot doorway. He stopped in front of her and looked sheepish. "I need more practise, I can't hold that form for long. Now, where were we? Ah yes, your presentation. Would you like to do it now?"

Maggie wobbled on her feet. She needed a chair. She really did. And some aspirin. And a tranquilliser. And a thumping huge baseball bat to hit stupid, show-off, alien male robots over the head with.

"No, nooo. I think I need to go home and find my vibrator. Uh, thanks Optimus, for, um, I don't know what..." she trailed off. "Good luck with the human practising." Gathering up her stuff, she shuffled away out the rec room door, looking very dazed.

"Goodbye, Maggie." Optimus searched the World Wide Web for the terms 'woman' and 'vibrator'. His optics went very wide and fluttery when he realised what Maggie had meant. His immense metallic frame creaked and his hydraulics powered up as he straightened, his shoulders going as stiff as the Cybertronian alloy they were made of.

He'd caused the female to become incredibly aroused by letting her see him naked, and then denied her any sort of release. He groaned softly. He had not meant to cause her distress to that degree. The female had been too distraught to ask for help, and he had been too ignorant to realise she needed some.

"Optimus, you garbage can," he hissed to himself. Oh well. He'd see if he could make it up to her the next time they met.

Maggie passed Ironhide again on her way out. The large black mech was standing in the doorway to the base, his arms crossed over his wide chest, legs propped wide, looking out into the desert. His gaze dropped down to study her as she walked unevenly past him.

Ironhide sniffed. His CPU lit up with rapid data inputs of a surprising nature. "Oh."

He sniffed again, making sure what his sensors were telling him was correct. The female was incredibly aroused and over-wrought. His optics stared down at her with puzzlement. He dropped his arms to his side.

Maggie paused, looking up, "Is something wrong_?" Cause, heck, a girl really needs to get home to her VIBE!_ She thought furiously.

Ironhide looked back into the base, not seeing any sign of his Leader. Maggie thought he seemed worried about something.

"Did, er, your meeting with Optimus go alright?" Ironhide looked back at her, his tone was hesitant.

Maggie grimaced, "Yes," she ground out.

"...okay." Ironhide raised an optic ridge, obviously not believing her.

"Bye." Maggie stalked off to her car, the hands holding her bag shaking badly.

Ironhide watched her shove her car into gear with a savage jerk – he winced at such treatment – and drive off down the road. The black mech turned his head at the sound of light footsteps behind him.

"Is she gone?" Optimus' voice. In human form.

"Yeah. What did you do to her?" Ironhide looked down. Prime was standing next to him, getting in more practise with his human holoform.

There was also a frighteningly large erection kicking out the front of his blue jeans.

Ironhide snorted, disgusted. "It's a bit late for that now, the female has left. You should have realised how to use that thing earlier. Put it away, youngling. Better luck next time."

Optimus growled.

Ironhide shrugged, not worried, and turned to go back inside the base, "And don't let Bumblebee see your holoform with that thing in front of it. Runt has enough issues about interfacing as it is. He'll be screaming about us trying to do bad things to him again."

Optimus Prime concentrated, trying to make his over-excited human holoform obey his commands. His erection started to sink. He smiled. Hey, that's bett-

His holoform blinked out. Again.

..."Slag it!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Movie Star**

Authors Note: This is my crack fic. When I'm bored and feeling silly, I get it out and play with it some more. It's not serious or normal, by any means! Especially this chapter... ::fans self:: Oh boy...

There is a sex scene in his chapter! Ratchet/Ironhide. You have been warned. Don't like that stuff, don't read it.

**Chapter 9**

Maggie stared at her drink, shuffling it around in her hands on the table, the sunlight from overhead causing the glass to sparkle. Damn. She wanted to kill that big Autobot. Or at least disable him. Hit him over the head – Ironhide would do that for her, no questions asked. She blamed Optimus for the lewd desperate images in her head. She was having dreams about him now, didn't that damn alien freak know what seeing him naked would do to her?

"Hey girl!" Mikaela plopped herself down into the seat next to Maggie, grinning. The cafe wasn't that busy yet, it was still early morning, brunch time.

Maggie grunted at her friend, lifting her glass of fresh orange juice and swallowing most of it in a very un-ladylike fashion.

Mikaela stared at her, absently putting her bag down onto the ground underneath her chair. "Okay, what's wrong, tell me."

Maggie scowled. Mikaela rolled her eyes, making 'c'mon' motions with one hand.

"Oh, I recognise that sort of frustration. Have you got vodka in that juice? And what did Optimus do this time?" Mikaela asked.

Maggie's eyebrows sank down. "There wouldn't be enough vodka in this glass to fix the kind of frustration that I've got."

"...Frustration?"

"One big Autobot. Naked." One of Maggie's hands fluttered at Mikaela, the bangles on her wrists clinking, "Asking me if his penis is the right size."

"_WHAT_?!"

"Yep."

Mikaela blinked, stuttered, choked, and then put her face in her hands. "Oh my God."

"Well, yeah, that's what I thought," Maggie screwed up her face, "And I broke my vibrator. He has to pay for that. Bloody alien can order me one over the internet." She paused. "A bigger one."

Mikaela slowly removed her hands from her face. "Why would Optimus want you to see him naked? And what's wrong with his penis?"

"Look, I have NO idea, and from my view, there wasn't anything wrong with his, er, equipment. Apart from being large enough to make an elephant feel inadequate and enter therapy."

Mikaela sat back in her chair, musing, her eyes slitted, "You know, Sam has seen Bumblebee's holoform naked. He didn't say anything about a huge-sized sausage though."

"Hmmm." Maggie turned her empty glass in her hands. "But Bumblebee isn't as big physically as Optimus is. There might be a correlation between robot size and..." she smirked, "manhood size." The woman shook her head, "Look, I'm sorry, I better get going, I really want to talk to the big boofhead about this. I can't just let this pass." She rubbed one hand over her face. "I can't sleep without thinking about..." she blushed, "You know."

"Yes. I think I do." Mikaela grinned and raised her eyebrows. "Best of luck trying to explain modesty and the importance of clothing to a robot."

_At the Autobot Base..._

Maggie sat in her car, staring at the entrance to the Autobot base, brooding. Could she go back in there? Yep. Why should she be nervous about seeing Optimus Prime again when it had been his choice to play with his human holoform – a bloody attractive male human – and make her see him naked the last time she was here?

With a scowl, she left her car and began walking towards the entrance.

::HONK::HONK::

Bumblebee, the yellow Camaro, came gliding up behind her. "Hello Maggie!"

Maggie smiled, she liked the small yellow bot, "Hiya Bumblebee." Maggie stared into his driver's seat as he crawled past her, "No Sam today?"

"He has an exam. About frogs?" Bee sounded uncertain.

"Must be biology."

"Yes, that is it." Bumblebee halted and began to transform. Maggie watched him, awestruck as always. Bee crouched and held out a hand to her, "Need a lift?" he asked, optics sparkling.

"No! No, no, thank you, nice of you to ask, but that's a Sam thing. I like walking," Maggie grinned up at him, happy to talk to him. She needed something to lift her irritable, itchy mood.

"Okay," Bee nodded, standing up again. "See you inside."

"Yup. I will." She watched him walk off, his walking pace quickly outstripping hers. Walking inside and heading for the section that housed the human facilities, she kept an eye out for any wayward 'Bots heading her way. Getting squished was always a danger. Opening the rec room door, she caught sight of someone else there as well. A tall, wide-shouldered, tight-arsed, over-muscled, hunk. With his back to her.

"Oh. Hello?" Maggie took a cautious step forward. The man didn't appear to hear her. He groaned languidly, his head dipped backwards.

... then his jean-clad hips moved in a thrusting motion. And a sucking slurping noise echoed around the high-ceilinged room. "Faster, Ratchet..."

Not again. Maggie's hand went numb. Her satchel of paperwork dropped to the floor. Another man's head peeked at her around the hips of the first man.

"Slag. Disappear, quick!" Ratchet's distinctive voice. The man on his knees blinked out of existence.

Maggie peered closely at the remaining man. Who was he? Optimus again?

"Wha..?" The first man's head turned, his body pivoted to face her. The front of his jeans were un-done, and his enormous... uh... was sticking out of... oh God... it was stiil wet. Glistening. Something that big and thick had no business being that upright. The man who had just vanished obviously hadn't finished the job.

A smirk appeared on the man's face, not seeming to be embarrassed at all. He certainly made no attempt to cover himself up. His hands came up to perch on his hips proudly. "Hello, Maggie."

"IRONHIDE?!"

"Of course." The human holoform looked perplexed. "Who else?"

"Ironhide! Cover yourself up! You're offending the female!" Ratchet's stern reprimand echoed ahead of the walking mech as he came in the door in robot form.

"But, I'm not finished yet," Ironhide touched himself with one finger, poking his hard-on, "can't you -"

"NOW!" Ratchet snapped, and tramped to a halt in front of the shocked woman.

Maggie still hadn't picked up her dropped bag. First Optimus, then Ratchet, and now Ironhide? While Optimus had just been naked, Ratchet had been performing oral sex on Ironhide! What was _wrong_ with these aliens? They were more obsessed with sex than the humans were! And what the HELL was wrong with doing all this behind closed doors, for frick's sake!

Ironhide grimaced, looked down with regret at his prominent erection; cursed; then blinked out. His big black metal body stomped into the room. He pointed an accusing finger at the CMO. "You owe me one."

Ratchet glared at him. "You'll be lucky to collect."

"WHAT! I did you first, don't you dare try and run out on me, aft-head!"

"I cannot deal with this." Maggie buried her face in her hands, then straightened up. Damn if she should be the embarrassed one here! She hadn't been doing the sex act! "Can't you lot control yourselves? You're getting more sex than I am! I'm the human! That's my job!" Her hands clenched into claws. "Stop it! Just, STOP IT!"

Ironhide glanced conspiratorially at his medic friend, "Someone needs overloading even more than you do, Ratch."

"What is all the shouting about?" Optimus Prime's concerned voice interrupted the melee. His tall and wide mech form entering the room snapped everyone's attention to the vibrant Leader.

No one said a word. Maggie swallowed convulsively. Ratchet and Ironhide remained silent. Ratchet stared intensely at a vacant corner of the room. Ironhide smiled and rocked on his feet, saying nothing.

"OKAY! That's it! No more sneaking around and dodging the subject!" Maggie waved her arms over her head madly. The Autobots all stared at her. "If you think you're so sex starved that you need to posture yourselves in front of me whenever I turn up, then get a subscription to Playboy! Or Penthouse! Whatever gets your goat!"

Ironhide blinked at Ratchet, "Goat? I don't want a goat, do you?"

"No more getting naked, no more sex, no more playing in front of the nice female and acting freaking innocent and stupid. And for Chrissakes, GET A ROOM! And learn to use the door locks!" Maggie huffed, going red in the face. She crossed her arms stiffly over her heaving chest, muttering. End of tirade.

One of Optimus Prime's optic ridges arched up. He turned to his CMO and Weapons Specialist. "May I enquire, what were you two doing, just now?" His voice was quiet but insistent, the tone he used when he'd had enough crap and wanted answers.

Ratchet looked thoughtful, "Um..."

"You tell him, Ratch." Ironhide said, nodding encouragingly.

"Me! Oh no, no, no. You started this! You tell him!" Ratchet spluttered.

"What?" Ironhide screeched incredulously, "You insisted we watch that, that, 'program' on human mating, then suggested we try out our holoforms-"

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"NOT!"

"Why you little-"

"QUIET!" Optimus Prime's booming threatening voice rattled the windows. The big mech's chest seemed to widen, he loomed over the shorter mech's. Ratchet whimpered as Prime's optics darted from one mech to the other. "I am going to ask the _questions_, and I am going to get _answers_."

Ratchet's optics widened, "O-okay."

"Whatever." Ironhide crossed his arms grumpily, not intimidated.

"Now." Prime's optics narrowed. "Exactly WHAT were you two doing when Maggie entered the room?"

Ratchet couldn't bring himself to speak. Ironhide groaned.

"Alright, alright." The black hulking mech jerked a thumb at Ratchet, "He was sucking me off."

Ratchet grimaced. "Slag."

Optimus straightened up. He looked confused. His head cocked to the side, "Ratchet."

"Erm... yes, Sir?"

"What 'part' were you sucking? And why was it necessary to suck it?" Optimus Prime's optics roved over Ironhide's body quickly. Why would anyone want to suck anything belonging to Ironhide? He didn't even wash that often. That was a lot of dirt.

Unable to stop herself, Maggie giggled. She slapped both hands over her mouth and tried to stop it, squeaking.

Ratchet grimaced, "His penis."

Now Prime looked like he'd been hit over the head with one of Judy Witwicky's saucepans. "But, Ironhide does not have – oh. Holoforms?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Right." Prime closed his optics and rubbed at the bridge of his metal nose with a forefinger. He turned to Maggie. "Ms Madsen, I apologise for my soldiers behaviour. They should know better. Much better." He sent a sideways glance to a repentant Ratchet and an un-repentant Ironhide. "They should have offered to bring you to your release instead of leaving you to suffer."

"W-w-w-WHAT did you just say?" Maggie gasped.

"They were wrong not to offer you assistance with your needs, leaving you alone to try and deal with it, yourself." Optimus blinked his optics covers, "Is it not wrong to arouse a female and leave her hanging without relief?"

"ARGGGHHHHH!" Maggie fled. Without her bag. All the way back to the car. Slammed the door. Abused the transmission (again) and floored it all the way back to the freeway.

Never to return.

Ratchet turned to an open-mouthed and shocked Optimus Prime, grinning. "You're even more tactless with women than we are."

Ironhide slapped his Leader between the shoulders, "Yeah. Way to go, Bossbot. Now we have to find another female."

Optimus winced. "Sorry."


	10. Chapter 10

**Movie Star**

Authors Note: As always, thank you for the kind reviews! I would love to be a published author someday... ah, dreams. Dreams of the humble and cross-eyed! Heh. Oh, there ain't no sex in this chappie. Just Optimus being silly. And, perhaps, getting somewhere with Miss Maggie? 

**Chapter 10**

_Downtown Tranquillity, early morning..._

Optimus Prime stood patiently underneath the window of Maggie's Government office, at two in the morning. He had even managed to lift his feet over the small gardens surrounding the medium sized building, and not squash any plants. He was proud of that. At least this place didn't have a fountain. "Maggie Madsen?" 

"Piss off!" 

He managed to duck the flying object (a banana?) and directed an intensely worried look at the woman. Maggie had swiftly jerked open her office window, lobbed the banana at the giant offensive robot, and then slammed shut her window again. 

Crouching on thick strong thighs, Optimus looked around with concern. Traffic was non-existent. He had successfully hacked into the building's security systems, the human guards in the lobby on the other side of the building were looking at a rolling repeating screen of Optimus-Prime-free garden. They wouldn't know he was there unless they stepped outside and around the side of the building (and his scanners would tell him if they did so). And the humans appeared much too occupied with their seats, TV, football game, and Twinkies. 

Prime's head snapped back around when the window was lifted open again. 

"GO AWAY! Leave me alone!", the irate blonde woman hissed, hanging out the window. "I'm not talking to sex addicted aliens!"

"Maggie, _please-_"

"NO. And someone will see you! Get lost! I mean it!" 

The window was rammed shut again. Even worse, the blind was yanked down. He had been painfully rejected. His broad armored shoulders sagged. A sigh of disappointment escaped his air vents. Women. He turned around and sank down to the ground, easing his aft gingerly onto the cool dew-soaked grass. He'd leave a dent, but he didn't care. He linked his hands between his bent up knees. His optics became unfocused. Musing. What did he have to do to get her to listen to him? 

He searched the internet, coming up with thousands of ways of saying 'sorry'. Flowers? No, she'd throw them back. The same with champagne – and the bottle would hurt. No, delete that, he WAS saying sorry, she just didn't want to listen. Maybe the internet had something to say about the behaviour between men and women? A multitude of books on something called 'Amazon' scrolled through his processor. A top-selling book called '_Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus'_ appealed to him. He grimaced. No, no; Maggie was from Earth and he was from Cybertron. That wouldn't work. 

"Stop stalking me!"

Too caught up in his thoughts, Optimus hadn't noticed the window opening again. He turned around to look over his shoulder; and was rewarded with a stiletto shoe in the head, bouncing off his forehead. On reflex, his battle mask slid into place. "Wha... Hey! Femme! Stop throwing inanimate objects at my person!" 

"Suck it up, fuzz butt!"

The window banged closed again. Optimus rubbed at his head, gazing at the shoe lying forlornly in the grass beside him. She'd be wanting that back. Maggie liked her shoes immensely, and she couldn't hobble around with just one, it would affect her walking capability. His fingers cautiously picked up the lone shoe with a small pinch of his metal fingertips, holding it in front of his glowing blue optics. He directed a sly grin up at the closed-and-blinded window. He was going to deliver this to her. Personally. 

The Autobot Leader went out into the street, transformed, parked his flame-patterned semi-truck self by the curb – and stepped down from the cab as his new holographic self. He retrieved the errant stiletto shoe and absorbed it into the pocket of his jeans. Patting down his clothing to make sure it was alright, he strolled up to the front of the building and knocked on the glass doors. 

The guards were easy to get past, after some niggling and polite conversation. His ID given to him by the Government got him through. Thank you Mr Keller. 

Exiting the lift on Maggie's floor, Optimus looked around, running a scan via his truck form parked outside. Only Maggie was present. Stalking along the hallway like the predator he was, he halted when he came to Maggie's door. Should he knock? Announce himself? Would she lock the door? Scream? Throw things again? He should bring a gift. Females liked gifts. His jean pocket bulged and popped the stiletto shoe out into his waiting hand. Ah, yes. Smiling, he palmed the door handle and quietly turned it. 

Maggie was at her computer, leaning forward far enough to have her nose almost touching the screen. Her fingers hammered away at the keyboard. She hadn't noticed his entrance. 

Optimus entered the room and closed the door. "Maggie?" 

"HOLY SHIT!" The woman leapt out of her chair. One hand snatched up a glass paperweight and hefted it with menace like a chick from the stone age. She peered at him. "O-Optimus?" 

"Yes," he nodded, holding his hands out in a peaceful gesture, "We need to talk, why won't you let me? I, uh, have brought your shoe for you," he added hopefully. 

Maggie's eyes narrowed, darting over his sweet body (wow, whoa girl, put the hormones in 'park'!) and her shoe in his hand. Her lips thinned. She stuck a hand out. Optimus gently placed her shoe in her palm. Maggie started hopping on one foot while jamming the missing shoe back onto her foot. 

"Alright then, out with it." Her tone was sullen. She plopped her butt back into her chair and crossed her arms over her tight Singlet top, staring at him. 

Optimus stiffened his legs and linked his hands behind his back, bowing his head. "Maggie, I am very sorry for what you have had to endure at the base. I did not, WE, did not intend to offend you or make you uncomfortable with our unacceptable overtures and outlandish behaviour." 

One of Maggie's eyebrows arched up cynically, she stuck her legs out in front of her, leaning back, "And?" 

"The only explanation I can offer is that we have been without the presence of females for a very long time, and we have perhaps forgotten how to conduct ourselves with proper decent behaviour." 

Maggie didn't move. The eyebrow stayed in its high 'so what' position.

"And..." Optimus frowned, "Ratchet and Ironhide have been ordered to confine their extra-curricular activities to their quarters." 

"Oh my God, 'extra-curricular activities' huh?" Maggie snorted, tapping her fingers on her arms. 

"Is this... good enough?" Optimus asked uncertainly. "We wish to make you feel at ease with us." He squirmed a bit, un-used to being on the receiving end of such female indignation. "We promise to behave, Maggie." 

Maggie chewed her lip. Then threw her hands up in the air, "Alright! Alright. What the heck, I like working with you guys." She pointed a finger at him, "Make sure you keep your clothes on. And NO dry humping. Not even as a joke." 

Optimus appeared confused, "Dry humping?" 

Maggie chortled, "I'm not explaining it, if you don't know what it is you can't do it." Leaving Optimus to blink over her words, she turned back to her computer, stretching her stiff arms over her head with a groan. "Now skedaddle, I have over-due work to do." 

Optimus studied her from behind. Her long blonde hair was hanging down her back, her petite shoulders flexing as her hands returned to the keyboard, one hand coming up to rub a shoulder and a small 'oww' issuing from her mouth. Prime's sensors perked up, "You are sore, Maggie?" 

"My arms hurt," Maggie muttered, pushing some of her overgrown fringe out of her eyes. She froze when she felt smooth big hands come to rest on her shoulders. 

"May I help?" The strong male hands started to knead and stroke at the congested muscles along her collarbone. Instant relief from the aching soreness in her upper back began to flood her body. 

"Don't let those hands go south." Maggie warned, leaning back against him. 

"Certainly not. Ironhide has maps and well-worn trails to 'down south'. I do not." 

Maggie giggled, "And Ratchet?"

"He trips along after Ironhide wherever he goes. If one is doing something the other usually joins in. Sort of a, 'me too' situation." Optimus concentrated on working his hands – and keeping his holoform from flickering off. This was the longest he had ever gone with staying in his human guise. 

"I noticed." She leant back further with a sigh. "That feels nice."

Optimus smiled down at her, "Mmm." Maggie's top was billowing outwards over her cleavage, affording Optimus a direct view of her pillowed breasts. They didn't do a thing for him – inorganics did not care about such things – but his hologram began to heat up. His crotch got tight. 

"Uh..." Optimus stopped his hands, taking a step backwards uneasily. He was not experienced enough with holoforms to control awkward urges relayed from his synth computer to his CPU. "I better let you return to your work." 

Maggie sat up, putting her hands on the armrests of her chair and turning around. Her eyes scrutinised him. "Are you okay? You sound a bit-" she took in the erection sticking out of his crotch, "strained. Optimus!" 

"Huh?" He looked down at himself, then cringed. "Oh. I did not start that. Honestly! It does that itself!"

"So do most men's," Maggie said dryly. "At least you don't have Ratchet here to suck it." 

Prime backed up with his hands over his offensive crotch, cupping the bulging denim. His internal commands to make the organ sink back down were being ignored. "I'm sorry, very sorry, I better leave." One of his hands reached behind him for the office door handle, groping hopefully. 

"No." Maggie sighed deeply, massaging one tired eye with her hand, smudging mascara, "Don't worry."

Optimus paused; still with one hand on his groin and his thighs jammed together. His holographic face was going red. "Excuse me?" 

"Look, Optimus," Maggie stood up, her heels clicking on the floor, "You're very innocent at all this. What I didn't like was how Ratchet and Ironhide acted in the rec room, you know? Ironhide didn't even bother to look embarrassed! Like, he _wanted_ me to react to his excitement, he turned around with everything," her hands motioned upwards, then pointed at his groin, "exposed and ready to go. That's what set me off. You're not like that. Thank GOD you're not like that."

The holographic Autobot had a hopeless sad puppy expression, "But... you were throwing things at me from the window. You don't like me." 

Maggie snorted. Oh, now this was getting pathetic. "Buck up, man. You are definitely not offensive to me anymore. I... um.. apologise for throwing stuff at you. There, how's that? And you were even gentleman enough to _return_ the shoe I threw at you! You can't get more chivalrous than that."

Optimus's eyes blinked rapidly, his back to the door. "You are not going to hurl any more objects at me?" 

"No." 

"Really?" 

"Optimus! Get over it! And stop covering yourself up!" Maggie demanded. "I will not be offended as long as your clothes stay on, alright! Like you said, you can't control it."

Slowly, with definite trepidation, the Autobot stood up tall and took his hands away from his crotch. Maggie choked. The bulge was even bigger than before!

"Um..." The woman rubbed at her forehead, flicking some fringe out of her eyes. "Do you even know what to do with that?" 

Optimus quickly thought over how to phrase his response. He didn't want her coming to the conclusion he was clueless with femmes. "I understand how it is used, but I have not used it before. That does not mean I am not experienced with females..." his lips twitched into a faint smirk. She'd seen the movie evidence!

"Got a girlfriend back home, then? Who is the lucky girl that snagged you?" Maggie said jovially. 

At that, the Autobot Commander's face fell. His gaze dropped down to the ground, his eyes averted from hers. He shifted on his feet. Maggie noticed his hologram flicker. 

Maggie cursed herself for being stupid. These guys were at war! If he'd had a woman – or whatever they had back home – she probably would have been killed by now. "Oh no! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, geez, I'm the one apologising now! I shouldn't have-" 

"She died, Maggie." His voice was sad; and reflective. His eyes lifted to hers, their brilliance dimmed. His noble face appeared tired. "Assassinated. It was a long time ago." 

"Sorry." Maggie hung her head down, studying her feet. "I'm sorry." She jerked when his hand came down to rest on her shoulder. 

"We have all lost someone." His eyes were kind. 

She couldn't look him in the face. Just looked at his chest. Silent. Slowly, feeling that he was waiting for her to say something, she gave a brief nod. She felt his hand touch her cheek, and she shuddered, closing her eyes. A gasp was pulled from her when his mouth brushed over her forehead in a chaste kiss. The closeness of his radiant aura was intimidating. Even as a human, he seemed so huge, and awesome. 

A soft whisper in her ear, "Thank you, Maggie." 

Her eyes opened. He was gone. 

**NEXT: **Things change between Maggie and Optimus; while Bumblebee gets corrupted (much to Prime's disgust). 


	11. Chapter 11

**Movie Star **

Authors Note: Oh boy, I'm on a roll with this thing. Too much naughty Autobot kinky-ness going on in my head. People seem to like it, even if the Health Authorities want to stamp 'REJECT' on my forehead and drag me away...

Beware! Optimus & Maggie naughty stuff in this chapter, along with human nakedness. Don't like Transformers getting kinky in human holoforms, don't read.

**Chapter 11**

_**Late evening, Autobot base...**_

Optimus Prime set himself comfortably lying down on his back, laid out on his recharge berth in his quarters. He cocked his head and listened for any sounds coming from either Ironhide's or Ratchet's room.

Nothing. They were quiet tonight.

He stared at the ceiling for a while longer. Gathering courage. He wasn't usually one for experimenting, especially with a form he wasn't yet a master of, but hearing the rapturous screams and moans of pleasure coming from Ratchet (high-pitched, with yelping, and the occasional snarl) and Ironhide (deeper yells, but just as loud, with lots of thumping noises and exclamation's of 'Oh God, that's good') as they played with their human holoforms made him want to know what it was like to achieve overload in human form. The humans were certainly enraptured with it. The groaning, screaming and thrusting was absolutely frenzied.

Closing his optics and concentrating, he materialised next to himself on the recharge berth as the human image he had perfected before; only this time, without clothing. He stretched out some of his holo-muscles, rolling his shoulders, shaking his legs, peering down at his body and examining it. It was certainly large enough. He touched careful fingers to his chest. Poking. Mmmm. Nothing to get aroused about there. In his regular form, a femme touching his chestplates and getting her fingers underneath his armor usually made him writhe with pleasure. His fingertips kneaded and stroked. Nope. No excitement there. Human chests were so flat and sterile, no spark to manipulate and no wires to tweak.

Using feather-light touches, his fingers danced down over the skin of his flat, six-pack abdomen to his groin. The thickness there seemed to be asleep. He still considered it to be on the small side, even if Maggie had insisted it was now a good just-above-normal size, he was used to things involving himself being over-sized. He was one of the biggest Autobots, after all. There was nothing sweet or small about his physique, that was Jazz and Bumblebee's department – and Jazz had put extra 'style' into being small.

Optimus smiled sadly, reflecting. Jazz had put style and personality into everything he'd done. He'd been a brilliant mech. Just brilliant...

With one last stroke of a pointed finger down his moderate length and ending with a twirl around the head, Optimus smirked. Everything about the 'Prime' was meant to be big. He directed a command at his hologram's privates, and the penis lengthened. Not as much as before, but definitely bigger than Maggie had thought appropriate.

Turning his internal eye to the internet, Optimus processed some of the ways and means of causing one's human self to reach overload. Hmmm. Didn't seem like there was much to it. Unlike Cybertronians, a human male's sexual experience all came down to touching and stroking the penis; he had no wires to pull, exposed joints to stroke, and no spark to touch or merge.

He got down carefully to sit on his butt with a grunt and lean his naked hologram back against the armored thick thigh of his regular body, with his knees pulled up in front of him but spread apart enough to give both his eager hands room to move upon his hairless crotch. Time to get to work. And perhaps his 'happy' noises would even eclipse those of the randy Ironhide and Ratchet...

_**Fifteen minutes later, at the base entrance...**_

Maggie cautiously made her way to the base rec room, having been dropped off by Sam and Bumblebee. The 'boys' had been on their way to the base, and she had begged a lift. In some timid way and hopeful way, Maggie was hoping she wouldn't need a lift home from them, not if her plans for Optimus worked out as she thought they might.

The woman had been wrestling with herself for the past week. Ever since seeing proof of what Optimus' holoform was capable of in the 'erection' department, and carefully analysing her own reaction to the chaste kiss the Autobot Commander had placed on her forehead at her office, she had come down to the fact that perhaps.. just perhaps... the gentlemanly, polite and hot-as-hot alien male may be interested in test-driving his human holoform... she gulped.. on _her_. Certainly, the reaction of her body to his presence was very eager. The batteries in her trusty vibrator had been replaced TWICE that week, all due to the way her brain and heart demanded to be with him. Frustrated screaming into her pillow was not something she wanted to get used to.

And why should he not? She'd seen the other two; Ratchet and Ironhide; playing with their human holoforms. Ratchet had been giving Ironhide a head-job for godsakes!

The night she had a wet dream about a naked human Ironhide holding her against the wall and driving her crazy with his crotch buried in hers while he smirked haughtily down at her, she knew she had to approach Optimus. She just couldn't let the opportunity go. She was definitely not going to let Ironhide seduce her into a liaison. No way...

Optimus or nothing. Well... perhaps Bumblebee... she grinned madly.

"Maggie?"

The human woman looked up, realising she was staring without comment at a pair of thick greenish robot legs in front of her face. "OH! Uh, Ratchet?" she blinked a few times. "Hi!" Her fingers waggled up at him. "Do you know where Optimus is, by any chance?"

Ratchet cocked his head, "He was in his quarters last time I checked in with him." The medic raised a directing finger. "Down the hall and turn left. Large blue door."

"You mean... just go down there and, a-and, knock?" Maggie tried to still the trembling of her hands, holding both ends of her laptop and crushing it to her chest. God, she sounded so stupid! Acting like she'd never been near a male before!

"Of course. What is wrong with that? He is always open to visitors." Ratchet left out the fact that his sensors were informing him that she was reeking of hormones signalling she wanted to mate with a male. Was she after Optimus? It wouldn't be the first time a femme tried to get him 'interested' in her. But an organic? That was new.

"...Alright. Thanks, Ratchet." Maggie began walking again. Right, turn left, blue door, and... get the courage to knock on the door to his personal domain!

"Hmmm." Ratchet rubbed his chin, watching her disappear around the corner. It would be interesting to see the outcome of this.

Maggie found the door easily enough. And after telling herself several times over that she as a confident, attractive, adult woman – knocked on the door.

... and got no response.

Maggie frowned. Was he in there? She knocked again, harder. Still nothing.

"He won't hear you, femme. Try it like this." A passing Ironhide halted behind her, reached out and rapped hard enough on the door that Maggie feared he'd break through the metal. The wall shook in time with his 'bashing'.

Both the mech and woman heard a strange sort of groan that sounded vaguely like 'yes.' Ironhide pressed the button to open the door. "There you go, don't know what you want with-" He stopped talking abruptly.

Ironhide blinked. Maggie gasped. Optimus groaned. A groan that definitely was not a welcoming one.

Prime's human holoform was gloriously naked – every masculine muscle outlined and bulging, no fat or sagging skin anywhere - and perched on his own metal thigh, rubbing his excited crotch back and forth against the warm metal, with his human holoform legs spread wide to fit himself over the expanse of his own metallic leg. His wide chest was puffed out and arched, his hands gripping his metal thigh, his eyes closed as his holoform strained to climax. He stopped suddenly when he heard Maggie's loud gasp and shriek.

'Oh no..' Prime turned his head. Ironhide was standing in the doorway. Maggie was next to his feet, looking flabbergasted. 'Whoops.' He cringed. The tip of his massive erection sagged.

Ironhide began laughing, his deep chuckles rumbling around Prime's quarters. "Primus, youngling, you can't stop can you?"

With a growl, Optimus' holoform flickered out, disappearing. The optics of his mech form flashed on and he sat up slowly. His head turned towards them. "Don't you knock?" he demanded.

"We did! You said yes!" Maggie burst out, covering her face with her hands, "God!"

"Not a yes to the question we were asking, though," Ironhide rumbled, grinning. "Should've locked the door if you wanted some personal time, Optimus. Not that Ratch or I would care what you do, you could sit and do that in the rec room for all we'd care about it. Bumblebee though... ouch."

Optimus dropped his gaze to look at the human woman at Ironhide's feet. Maggie had closed her eyes and had her head turned away from him. His spark sank in his chest. "Maggie?"

The femme didn't move. She took a deep breath in and sighed.

Optimus looked back up at his Weapons Specialist, saying quietly, "Ironhide, leave us, please."

"Sure." Ironhide turned around, lifting his feet and being careful not to tread upon Maggie, and left, closing the door behind him. Boy, he had something to tell Ratchet!

The large red and blue mech lifted his legs to swing them over the side of the recharge berth. He sat silently on the edge for a moment, his hands next to his thighs. His metal body creaked and hummed. "Maggie, I apologise. I wasn't paying enough attention to what was happening outside my door. You should not have had to see that." His optics studied the female. She still refused to look at him.

"We must seem very strange to you," Prime said softly.

Maggie's head moved slightly. Her eyes met his optics at an angle, "Not strange. Just.. hard to understand. Men are obsessed with sex. I shouldn't be surprised that male robots are any different." She looked away again, trying to get her thoughts in order. She was shocked by finding him doing... THAT, but her glimpse of him in the throes of making his human self orgasm, seeing his magnificent holoform perched like an angel without wings, every hard muscle on display, an expression of ecstatic wonder on his face with his head tilted back and blue eyes closed...

"Mmm." Optimus studied her. She was tense. Nervous. Shocked. He became angry with himself. Why were they always causing her so much distress? She shouldn't have to feel that way. "Maggie."

No response.

"_Maggie_."

She turned to look up at him, her pert nose lifted and her eyes appraising. "What?" She jumped and shrank backwards when his holoform re-appeared, this time wearing clothes and standing in front of her, just an arm's length away.

"I have come to understand that the males of Earth do not always understand or consider your feelings in a lot of matters." He paused, his hands clenching and un-clenching by his jean-clad thighs, his glowing blue optics intently watching her from under a jagged dark brown fringe, "but that is not our way. Females are cherished, protected and cared for. It pains me greatly to think of what our behaviour has done to you. I cannot apologise enough."

This time it was _his_ head bowing, his eyes looking at her feet. Ashamed with himself.

Maggie stared at him. Her arms were beginning to ache from the strong hold she had on her laptop held to her chest. She leaned over and let it rest on the ground at her feet. She looked back up at him. He hadn't moved. His head was still bowed. His wide shoulders bent downwards from their usual proud straight line.

He jerked when he felt small fingers begin to insert themselves into the fists of his hands. He looked up. Maggie had closed the distance between them, one of her hands was holding each of his in a gentle clasp, her eyes staring up at him.

"You know, I think you're the most perfect human male I've ever met." She was smiling.

His eyes widened, "Really? You don't... hate me?"

"Hate you?" Maggie 'pffff'ed, "I don't hate you." She reached a hand up to run it through the disarray of his holographic hair, wondering how something so not real could feel so soft and inviting. When she ceased ruffling it, it returned to its former disarray from memory, "You're the nicest, most caring, genuine, most gorgeous," she slid a finger down his forehead and tapped his nose, "_man_ I've ever met."

His lips parted with a surprised 'o'.

Maggie grinned slyly, "And you know what?"

"Er... what?" Optimus responded with a raised eyebrow.

"I think you need a proper, REAL, human woman to show you what this body of yours," she touched his flat, muscle-ripped, abdomen and slid her palm deftly up his flatly muscled t-shirt clad chest, "can do."

Standing on her tiptoes, her hands now on his artificial collarbones, she kissed him. Starting out soft and probing, then harder, demanding a response.

Prime's jaw began to move. His lips shaped themselves to hers. His head dipped down so she didn't have to strain to reach him on her toes.

"Mmmm..." Maggie pulled back, smiling up at him. "Nice."

His eyes searched hers. "Is this what you want? You want us to merge?" His hand came up to touch her cheek, stroking softly. "I am in-experienced in this form, but I can try and give you pleasure."

Maggie snorted, "I'm here to show you how _this_ thing," she softly landed a small fist on the middle of his hard chest, "works. You can, uh, pleasure me afterwards. And it's not a 'merge', or whatever you aliens call it, it's sex."

"Sex." Optimus' lips pouted. "Such a short stunted word. Your language is not as expressive as it could be."

"Oh, really?" she laughed, "and how do you say or what do you _call_ your acts of intimacy?"

Optimus seemed to gather himself. She looked shocked when a beautiful sing-song digital warble of sounds burst forth from his mech form on the bed. "Like that," he said smoothly, with a hint of smugness.

"What did you say?" Maggie asked, stunned, "That was beautiful. Like music."

"I said our 'sex' is referred to as spark-merging, or interfacing, and I asked if a beautiful femme such as yourself would willingly join with me in such an act as you humans perform it." His voice was firm but soft.

"Wow." She touched his cheek, feeling the firmness of the flat plane leading up to his exaggerated cheekbones, her eyes sparkling with dangerous tears. To hide them, she turned her head sideways and rested it upon his chest. "Yes. Yes, I will. Please."

He nodded, cupping a hand to the back of her head and holding her gently. "Thank you. I hope I do not disappoint you." His hand touched her chin, lifting her head from his chest to face him. "And what is this strange concoction you wear on your lips?" His finger traced her mouth, curious.

Maggie laughed, "Lipstick. Most women wear it. You don't like it?"

Optimus cocked his head thinking, "It make your mouth slippery. It does not taste of you. I can detect chemicals, something humans should be wary of, instead of willingly wearing."

The woman burst out laughing, leaning over with her hands on his hips, "Oh _God_, you guys are hilarious, you know that?" She dragged one hand over her eyes, smearing mascara.

Optimus looked concerned, peering at her smudged make-up, "You have more chemicals on your eyes? This is not good. Stay here." He walked off to another area of his quarters, disappeared, then re-appeared with what looked like a square towel. "Here, hold still." He carefully and gently began to wipe the make-up from Maggie's face.

Maggie stood still, keeping her face up for him and her giggles under control as much as she could. He seemed distressed that she had covered her face in 'chemicals'. When her face was wiped clean he inspected her again, his glowing blue eyes checking her skin closely, nodding to himself. "Much better. You should not do that to yourself. Organics and chemicals do not mix."

"Did Ratchet tell you that?" Maggie asked, touching a finger to his own lips.

"No, it is part of our database programming for any organic species. But I'm sure Ratchet could expand upon it specifically for yours."

Maggie laughed, holding one hand over her mouth. "Aliens. So funny."

Optimus smirked at her, then began looking around his own quarters, "Now, where should we do this 'sex'? On my recharge berth?"

"Do you mean 'berth' as in 'bed'? Is it soft? And how do we get up there?" Maggie queried, snuggling her arms around his narrow waist. She loved touching him. He was so... magnetic. Adorable yet smoulderingly sexy.

"Yes. I have an idea. Hold on. I will not drop you."

"Drop me?" Maggie wondered what he meant, then jerked at seeing Optimus' metal hand begin lowering itself down to them from above their heads. She grabbed onto his holoform. "Are you controlling that?!"

"It is the real 'me', Maggie. Of course I am. Please hold onto my holoform. How else are we to get up there?" Optimus was concentrating, keeping his attention carefully split between his holoform self, and commanding his hand and arm to pick them up.

Maggie hung onto his waist tightly, plastering herself to his body. Optimus supported her as he stepped onto the palm of his own hand and got it to rise up to the berth above them. Maggie didn't dare look down until he helped her off his hand. He was right, the surface under her feet was padded.

"You can let go now." His hands rubbed at her arms soothingly. "It is understandable that humans do not like heights. Your bodies are so fragile. Falling means death."

Maggie looked him straight between the eyes with raised eyebrows, "Such romantic words."

"Mmm. Wait one second." Prime's eyelids shuttered down, his forehead creased, and then Maggie found herself leaning against his un-clothed body. A naked Optimus Prime.

"Oh my God..." Maggie tensed, holding herself away from the curves and hard lines of his buff body. "You could warn a girl, first!"

"I am sorry," Optimus smiled down at her, his eyes glowing like a weird form of ET, "but I am now ready to begin." His hands went to her shirt, beginning to carefully pull it from her shoulders, "Let me help you with your clothing. You cannot phase it out of existence like I can."

Maggie scrunched up her face and stood still while he stripped her shirt and singlet from her upper body. She helpfully stepped out of her pants when his agile fingers un-zipped them, kicking off her shoes, leaving her in bra and panties only. His fingers brushed at her covered crotch curiously, his head angling to the side to look down. She pushed him away shyly, then began fumbling behind her back to un-do her bra.

"Allow me." He grasped her shoulders, turned her around, and peered at the contraption. "Hmmm." He flash goggled the internet, gained some helpful instruction, and managed to un-do the unfamiliar clasps. His hands lifted the straps away from her, and she grabbed it from the front, dropping it to the ground.

He reached for the last item of clothing she was wearing – her panties – but she turned to face him and stopped him with one hand firmly on his chest. Then she looked down at his crotch. His _bare_ crotch.

"You've made yourself bigger again," she said, referring to the length of his penis. She watched the corded muscle of his thighs ripple as he shifted uneasily. He knew she'd notice.

"I... prefer it that way," he murmured sheepishly, joining her in looking down at his length hanging between his legs.

Maggie smirked, rolling her eyes, "You really are a man, aren't you? Things always have to be bigger and better."

"Why, yes. That is the point of being male." His smile was cocky.

The woman looked down at her feet, shifting nervously, then she rubbed her bare arms. It was a bit cold in here. "Do you have heating? All this metal you guys have makes things pretty cold."

In response, the surface under her feet began to warm up. Air currents of warmth rose around her, making wisps of her blonde hair float. She looked at him with surprise.

"The berth can be heated. You don't think we enjoy being cold during recharge, do you?" Optimus said cheekily. "Our systems are more efficient when kept at an even temperature."

Maggie stepped close to him and he looked down into her face. "You can be very clinical and commanderish sometimes, you know that?"

He opened his mouth to reply but she covered it with the whole of one hand. "No more talking and dissecting the strange things humans do." She slid her hand from his mouth. "Let's do some exploring instead..."

Optimus pulled her abruptly closer to him, making her feel every ridge and plane of his holoform, putting on his best seductive expression, with his lowered voice humming pleasantly in her ears, "I like the sound of that..."

**NEXT: **Optimus Prime and Maggie get horizontal. And Bumblebee discovers a few things that he didn't want to know.


	12. Chapter 12

**Movie Star **

Authors Note: Please be aware that there are some explicit sexual descriptions ahead. Naked holoforms, naked humans, sex acts, yada, yada. Ye have been warned. Don't come squealing that you weren't. Unlike my usual writing, this is less laughs and more sex.

**Chapter 12**

Maggie looked up into the piercing eyes of Optimus Prime's holoform. Then lowered her view a fraction, noticing something about him for the first time. "You guys don't like portraying chest hair do you?" His mammoth chest was completely hair free. Squeaky clean. No curly short ones, no tell-tale line of black hairs going from his chest, down his middle and ending above his boxer shorts (if he'd had any on, which he didn't; he was more naked than any male should feel comfortable with for their first time).

Optimus grunted slightly, "Do you want me to have hair? I have gleaned the information from the World Wide Web that many females detest hair in... certain places. Like, the aft, for instance. Or the feet."

Maggie frowned. "Aft? What's that?"

"The buttocks, as you call them. 'Bum', 'ass', or 'butt' – am I correct?"

"Urgh! Oh God yes, hairy butt cheeks are definitely not on." So saying, Maggie grinned and reached BOTH her hands around his hips, landing each palm snuggly flat on his high and rounded arse. "Nope, you're clean."

Maggie lost some of her joviality when she realised that feeling his behind had resulted in her flattening the region below her belly button directly onto his penis.

...and it was beginning to rise.

Her breasts were also pressed none-too-subtly into his chest.

"Oh." Feeling TOO close to him, she pulled back slightly. "I guess, uh, we better... Um..." she scrunched up her face, thinking. "Hmmm."

"Get on with it?" Optimus said lightly, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

Maggie's eyes lifted cautiously up to meet his downward gaze. "Yeah..."

Optimus Prime's assessing gaze surveyed her, "You must remove your last article of clothing, or I will not gain entrance between your legs."

The woman's eyes widened. She choked. "Hey!" Her brain came up with the image she'd seen of him naked, humping his own metal leg with his holoform, a massive erection sticking up from his crotch, and him trying to get off on it. "There's blunt and there's being _blunt_ – got it?"

Optimus seemed to shrink back a little, lowering his head, his hands hovering at his sides uncertainly, "My bad." It had been a very long time since he'd engaged in intimate activities with a female. And this one wasn't even his species. "Please forgive me if I seem a little..." he frowned at himself, "out of touch at times. I have not been intimate with a femme for eons." _And please Primus, let her not ask about Ironhide..._ he thought desperately.

"Eons?" Maggie's expression was concerned, and curious. "How long is 'eons'?"

Prime groaned softly. He should not have revealed such information about himself. Big mouth. Femmes didn't appreciate out-of-date mechs. Too late now. "... several thousand years?" he said, his voice rising an octave.

"My God. I mean, that's... that's... a long time." Maggie stared at him, rubbing one hand through her long blonde ponytail thoughtfully. "How could you go for so long? No, don't tell me, I know. You make my four years seem very small." Her eyes sought out his slightly worried ones. "You've been a bit starved for love, huh?"

Optimus opened his mouth, frowned, then nodded slowly, "Yes." What did he have to lose any more by admitting a fact like that?

"You know, I see nothing wrong with huge, alien, warriors made of metal needing love just like everyone else." She reached out and hugged him sincerely, patting his back.

He embraced her back, relieved, then naughtily allowed one hand to wander from her shoulderblade and down to her panty-clad buttocks. She jolted against him, feeling his fingers poking at the fabric, "Hey!", her hand reached behind to blindly grab at his and peel it from her ass.

"You don't appear to have a hairy aft either. That is very pleasing to me." His eyes were sparkling again. He removed his hand and took a sideways step back, lofting one of her hands in the air with his own as if they were a prince and princess preparing to dance, "Shall we begin?"

She swore his nose twitched mischievously like that of a bunny. It struck her that even though he was an alien, AND not human, he was thousands of years old and surely had some sneaky sexy moves of his own tucked away in that head. She was now getting confused about what to expect from him.

"Okay..." Maggie allowed him to draw her to him, hold her to his chest and sink down onto his knees. Her heart started to flutter. Her thighs trembled. This was what she'd come here for, and now that they were about to do it, she was afraid.

"Umm..." She pressed her face to his chest shyly, trembling, tucking her hands in front of her against him. Now that she was so close to doing what she'd been dreaming about, it was a little overwhelming.

Optimus studied her, holding her closely. She was shaking so much it was him holding her upright on her knees. He thought for a second. Perhaps...

The overhead lights dimmed down to a mere chirpy glow.

"Huh?" Maggie lifted her head, looking around. "The lights?"

"The illumination was too bright. Not so conducive to romantic deeds. Is this level to your liking?" he asked sincerely.

"It's better." She pushed at him, getting him to lie down upon his back. He obliged. "Right, now, I think we'll start with simple things first, it might be better if I get you to climax on your own." Skimming her leftover panties off her hips, down her legs and tossing them over the side of the recharge berth, she managed to get his thighs spread wide while she kneeled between them.

Optimus lifted his head, watching her. She grinned at him, feeling more in charge - and more confident; her stomach was losing its flutters - in this position and not so exposed. With dainty hand movements, she wrapped both hands around his half-erect penis. Feeling its weight and breadth. It was over-sized and a touch scary. _I don't know how far I can get this in my mouth, but he hasn't had any experience to complain about it if I can't get it all in. _

Leaning over, she literally kissed the head of him, shaping her lips to his tip.

A low growl came from him. Her touch on that part of him was surprisingly nice, as if every nerve and thought in his body was right there, where her hand was. His muscular thighs lifted, moving uneasily. It was so strange to experience pleasure in that region of his body. Normally it was all in the centre of his chest... this 'between-the-legs' thing was quite powerful and stimulating.

Optimus lost his train of thought as the woman began squeezing his shaft with one hand while rubbing her thumb around the tip. He moaned and arched his crotch up into her touch.

She stopped. "You won't squash me, will you? Don't squeeze your thighs together. Oh, hang on," she got up, scampered over to sit next to his hips, and settled down again, replacing her hands on his appendage. "Now you can. Your thighs just look..." she screwed up her face, "way too strong to be trapped between, you know?"

"Uh, yes..." he squeaked. He wanted to yell at her to keep quiet and just TOUCH him, all over, repeatedly, everywhere – he needed to get to the end stage of whatever this pleasure was. An.. orgasm? Wait, wait; what about Maggie? She was doing all the work and he was doing _zip_.

"Maggie," Optimus struggled to get his upper body almost upright, getting himself propped up on straight arms. "Shouldn't you be, uh, can't I.. ah, that's nice..." she de-railed him again with her sucking mouth and clever fingers. He groaned, then yelped when the woman placed one small hand on his oversized chest – and pushed. He went down willingly, flat on his back. "But, Maggie..."

Maggie stopped, sitting up with her hands on her kneeling knees, "Will you behave? Stop trying to take over everything!" She huffed, "Men!"

"No, no, no, it's mech, MECH; I'm _not_, arrgghhhhHHH!" he shrieked the last word, Maggie's tongue had found the underside of his penis and was currently stroking the cleft to be found there just underneath his tip, while her hands had progressed downward his thickened shaft and were lightly cupping his large testicles.

The grinning woman withdrew herself from him gently and carefully got down onto her side, re-arranging her aching and cramped legs. She watched the reaction of Optimus to her techniques. His holoform body was shuddering. Jaw clamped shut, expression desperate, body arching up with every muscle on display, and his penis seemed to be enlarging itself in width and height from her stimulation. She smirked. Just gorgeous.

"Please, keep touching... oh Primus, don't stop!" Optimus keened. His holoform body was flexing itself rhythmically, un-dulating and thrusting, following the human programming it had been installed with.

"Okay, okay, keep your pants on, or, in your case, maybe not," Maggie chuckled, reaching out to the vertical part of him again. He was certainly a very receptive and eager subject, and it wasn't bad on her end, either. She was conscious of the fact that her own excitement was making a sticky clear mess between her clamped thighs, something she was worried about. Would he look at her there and be repulsed? Maybe she needed a towel or something before it got too bad.

"Maggie, I can't... oh... I can't, WAIT!" His hips almost exploded up off his recharge berth as he reached his climax.

If someone had ever politely described to Maggie (which no one had) what Optimus Prime sounded like when he was really ticked off or about to rip a very deserving Decepticon into little itty-bitty pieces, she would not have believed them. There wasn't anything that came close to the sound of a very vocal Optimus at full power.

_**Ratchet's medbay...**_

Ratchet listened to the incredible scream coming from down the corridor and cocked his head slightly, very un-perturbed, even if his sensitive audios were ringing and giving him feedback. "Ironhide."

The black mech looked up from the computer screen he was using at a nearby bench, "Yeah?"

"How many more screams like that do you think Miss Maggie can get out of him?"

"Lots," Ironhide scratched at one of his cannons with lazy fingers, "And I bet he wasn't even inside her for that one either." The Weapons Specialist gave his friend a scrutinising look, "You sure you don't want to materialise as a female holoform for us to play with?"

"Go suck slag out of a pit bucket."

Ironhide bore his disappointment badly, glowering, "Humph. I thought as much. Fragger." He pointed an accusing finger at the medic, "And it's your turn to be on the bottom tonight."

Ratchet shrugged nonchalantly, "Sure. Just don't pull that trick of suddenly lengthening yourself without warning me."

"You are absolutely no fun, you know that?" Ironhide scowled.

_**Back in Optimus Prime's quarters...**_

Maggie slowly removed her hands from covering her ears. She gaped at the man on the bed in front of her. "What the _crap_ was that?!"

Optimus couldn't answer. He was covering his face with both hands and moaning. His holoform was still shuddering through aftershocks. By Primus, that was the most amazing thing ever! Humans! They were keeping this sex thing all to themselves when they should be sharing such magnificent pleasure with the rest of the galaxy, and beyond! No wonder Ironhide and Ratchet were so fascinated with their holoforms... just a pity that the 'orgasm' didn't last very long. But he'd only had one. Perhaps with more experience they could be longer.

"You just told everyone on this base how happy you are! Strewth!" Maggie poked him with a stiff body part of her own; her finger into his thigh. "Are you okay?" Her eyes examined him carefully, up and down, she even looked over at his real metal body lying a few body spans away. Everything seemed okay. Maybe he just hadn't been prepared for what it would feel like. "Optimus?"

"I'm fine." Prime's voice was muffled. He still had his hands over his face. "I apologise for startling you, but that experience was... incredible."

"Even more incredible is the fact that nothing came out of it," Maggie mused, leaning down to take a closer look at his now limp male appendage. "I suppose you guys are not really outfitted to be _that_ realistic." She looked back up at him and froze. He was staring at her. Like a predator. Her eyes widened.

"Maggie..." he growled. His eyes were glowing that bright blue again. And they were fixed on her.

"Yes?" She gulped, shrinking away from him. What was he doing? Was he angry?

She cringed when he got up on all fours, his massive shoulders flexing as he came towards her, his eyes losing their brightness and going dark under the fringe of hair covering his forehead. Staying on one hand and his knees, his free hand reached out – to grab her, she thought – and his fingers touched her throat, softly, very softly, just brushing tenderly, before trailing downwards to rest palm down in the space between her breasts.

"We normally feel our pleasure, _here_," Prime's voice was deep but soft, his hand moved down her abdomen slowly, making her breathe in sharply at how ticklish it was, "when humans experience their overload, ...here..." his voice trailed off when his hand roved downwards to cup between her legs. She felt his hand press into her. No fingers, just the inside of his palm. She leaned forwards, letting out a shaky breath, resting her cheek on his shoulder with a sigh as he touched her.

"That's... nice," she whispered into his synth skin, closing her eyes. He wasn't penetrating her with anything, merely holding her with his broad hand.

"Maggie." He let his lips touch the ear pointed upwards at him. "You have given me a great gift."

"Mmmm..." she sighed breathily, not wanting his hand to stop. Now it was her time to do all the thrusting; rolling herself into his touch. His large splayed hand covering the part of her that was so private and sensitive.

"Do you know what is going to happen now?" He kissed the edge of her earlobe, tongue reaching out to lick once or twice.

"...what...?" Her eyes closed against the realisation that her dream was becoming deliciously alive. She slid one arm up and around his neck. She wanted to press herself against him. His skin to her skin. Male to female.

He allowed her to. Removing his hand from her wet crotch – and soothing her whimpers with reassuring sounds of his own – he braced himself on his knees and cuddled her close to his chest, while dipping his head down tenderly to breathe softly into her ear, "_Now it's your turn_..."

**NEXT:** Yes, I know, sorry, but I wanted to leave it there until the next chapter. Well, if you survived that, up next is the heated pair actually doing the evil deed. Be afraid!


	13. Chapter 13

**Movie Star**

Authors Note: Dear readers, thank you for the nudges, pokes, smacks, rude notes on the aft and other encouragement methods to make my muse get up from the sun lounge in Hawaii, come back to freezing and wet Sydney, and finish this chapter. Without you guys, Optimus and Maggie would have remained stuck in limbo, and I hear it's pretty cold in there with no clothes on! This particular chappie is also for _optimus prime 007_ and _plenoptic_, the two biggest Optimus Prime fans I've ever met! You guys rock!

And now for the warning:

WARNING! WARNING! DANGER! Full on sex, nakedness, touching, graphic descriptions, kissing and other naughty stuff ahead! Please, for the love of Primus, if you are underage or are not agreeable to reading this type of stuff, DO NOT start reading! Thank you.

**Chapter 13**

Maggie blinked up at Optimus Prime's holographic human face so up close to her own, licking at her ear. She was shaking slightly, but it wasn't from fear. It was eager anticipation making her human heart go ka-thumpa, ka-thumpa. _Oh God, here we go, get ready to have your world spun into another galaxy, Mags!_

The holographic Autobot Commander was settled on his knees, holding her up against his chest. Her hands had settled into two places on his fan-tab-ulous body, with one flat on his pecs (hard, smooth and utterly delicious) and the other perched on his thigh (solid, taut and thick with muscles curving one into the other).

His eyes stopped staring into her own and moved downwards. He paused. A small grunt of thoughtfulness came from him, announcing, "I would like to try kissing you, Miss Maggie."

The Australian girl choked on a giggle. He was so sweet. He really was. A teddy bear with deadly intent, big guns, and an even bigger whang.

"A kiss?" she asked, blinking her eyelids coyly at him. "With me?"

Prime nodded, brushing her cheek with the tip of his slender straight nose. "Yes. You know, with these?" He pointed at his mouth, pushing out his lips like he was kissing goodbye to his Grandma. "I have noticed that your species does this a lot, and while Ratchet and Ironhide have tried it and dismissed it as not so great, they were not attempting such an act on a proper human woman."

Maggie spluttered, "Ratchet and Ironhide tried _kissing_?! When did I miss two hot naked men doing that?! I thought I'd walked in on everything you lot do!"

Optimus looked confused, "Why are you surprised? Those two are very forward with trying anything once. Being the wrong species or even the wrong GENDER does not matter so much to them. Although I must agree, they are not always discrete with their private matters, and I don't enjoy watching Ratchet do unsettling things to Ironhide's exhaust system to cause him to overload."

Suddenly a bug-eyed Maggie was turning in his embrace, shoving her arms around his neck, leaning into him and pulling him down hastily, "Hurry up and get that image of those two monkeying around _out of my head_!"

He wasn't ready when their lips touched and Maggie was pressing hard into him. The two of them wobbled as Prime pulled back slightly and Maggie moved too far in. His braced thighs stopped them from toppling over. The woman had her hands spread on the side of his head. Holding on while she mashed his mouth. Maggie began to notice that while she was enjoying the experience, Optimus wasn't showing any signs of enthusiasm. She stopped.

"What's wrong?" Her voice was a touch breathless.

Optimus held a hand up to his mouth, running his blunt fingers over his lips. "That is... odd. Not bad, just... odd."

If Maggie had been paying attention, she would have noticed the optics on his real robotic self flashing brightly when he accessed the human instruction manual all of the Autobots used; the World Wide Web. He viewed cartoon kisses, real life kisses, kisses in paintings, read a few romance novels and watched kisses in movies. All in a human blink.

Satisfied with his new knowledge (he'd missed the information on kissing when he had searched the internet for sex instructions, but then, outright sex didn't appear associated with kissing all that much) he raised his head. Maggie was sitting and staring at him.

"May I try that again?" he asked politely.

"Okay!" Maggie leaned in with a shrug, opening her mouth. She wasn't going to deny this gorgeous, thoughtful, GOD of a man another kiss, even if he thought of them as 'odd'. She liked it!

"No, no, femme, let ME do it," Optimus chuckled restraining her with mild force.

With an arch of one manicured eyebrow, she stayed sitting back on her heels and waited for him. When he reared upright on his knees over her, Maggie's eyes went straight to the long thick appendage she had been sucking earlier. It sort of.. dangled there, shadowing his thigh muscles. She didn't get to enjoy the eye-popping view, his hands had cupped themselves underneath her jaw and lifted her face up. She blinked. Minutely parted, her lips began filling with blood and plumping themselves up in anticipation of another kiss, creating quite an enticing pout.

His face hovered over hers. Checking out the 'territory' he was soon to invade... and conquer. Glowing blue eyes under a straggled fringe of brown hair moved over her face. His large fingers cradled her jaw tenderly. Then he moved in.

Maggie shut her eyes and gasped when his firm wide lips slanted over her mouth. He paused for a second, his bulk leaning over hers, then began their lip mating dance. At first he just barely touched her. Pressing lightly. Rubbing. Moving back. Changing position. Brushing noses. Murmuring something in his own language. Tantalising her.

...then he began his _real_ assault.

With one hand behind her head to hold her still, he put harder pressure on her mouth, and pulled her chest slick against his own, demanding that she give in to him. His other hand reached down to take a cupful of her naked buttocks, and squeezed. Massaging it. Stroking it. Over and over. One finger then began exploring the crease between them with a teasing probing motion.

Maggie mewled. Her hands clutched at his rippling torso wherever they could get a grip. Knots and shelves of holographic muscle on his ribcage and shoulders became her friends. Her fuzzy consciousness wailed at her, _Heaven... this is heaven! I don't want to wake up!!_

When his mouth was satisfied that she was submissive enough, he leaned her back against his arm and slid his lips down the side of her chin... and along the length of her throat. Kissing, nibbling, suckling.

Her hands couldn't stay STILL. Reaching upwards, she grabbed at his hair. Hanging on. She was staring at the ceiling far above their heads when his mouth dared to move further and firmly greeted the swell of her right breast with puckered lips. She really did let loose a series of porn-like groans and gasps at that one, despite telling herself she wasn't capable of it, nor was it decent to make your partner feel like they hadn't turned off the X-rated DVD in the background.

Her startled cry showed him how much she enjoyed having her nipples suckled upon. And when his tongue extended between his lips to rub the engorged bud he found, she convulsed against him. His knee slipped between her thighs. It took a mere second before her crotch was gripping and rubbing itself along the thick protrusion.

Maggie was making an absolute mess of his dark brown holographic hair. Some bits that she tugged too hard on in her passion blinked out of existence as soon as they separated from his skull.

Optimus loved the soft smooth flesh of her chest. Her flesh was white and supple. Human lips seemed made to be kept permanently upon a woman's most prominent pair of bits. He nuzzled them. Kissed them. Laved his tongue over them. All while she squirmed, drew harsh gasps of air and cursed him madly and happily for being an alien with great learning abilities and a stupidly overactive tongue.

A dishevelled but pleased Optimus with his hair sticking out at odd angles from Maggie's wild hands finally stopped his foreplay and looked up at her like a little boy pleased after finishing his first day at kindergarten. A jaw-wide grin of glee was plastered over his face. She'd never seen him so... madly happy. Even his own orgasm a few minutes ago hadn't produced a crazy expression like that.

Maggie was happily trembling. Leaning back on the arm he was propping her up with (the one that had finished playing with her aft) she was wondering if the other Autobots were as good as he was, and damn if the rest of the human male population on Earth should live in fear now that she knew how inadequate they were compared to _him_.

She sighed and rested her cheek on his chest, mouthing silently, 'Will you marry me?'

Not taking any notice of her dilemmas, Optimus looked around her to stare curiously between his thighs, announcing with delight, "Oh, that works! Look, it's gone straight up!"

That brought her over-the-top desire down to manageable levels. She snorted, looking up and patting his smiling cheek, "Yep, that happens. And now you get to use it how nature intended. Or, uh, how your holo projector made it.."

His head lifted from staring at his erection to scrutinise her seriously. His eyes narrowed. It was that same look he'd used earlier when he breathed in her ear, stating it was _his_ turn now, and she better be prepared.

"Shall we start?" he asked smoothly, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, um, okay."

While she desperately wanted that tower of alien masculinity between her legs, she was stricken all over again with butterflies turning into frogs in her belly and jumping up and down. Maggie started to awkwardly shuffle backwards and get into a better position. Prime noticed immediately the sudden expression of nervousness on her face. His hand darted forward to cup her crotch firmly, stopping her. Maggie shrieked and froze.

"No running away and feeling shy, Maggie," he said in a light tone. "I may be new at this but I assure you, it will be good."

His fingers caressed the space between her sweltering womanhood and her rear passage, touching neither but stimulating both. Her eyes fluttered closed with a groan. He really had been doing his research if he knew that area of a woman's nether regions was a hot spot for many females.

"Yes..." she whispered.

"Thank you." He kissed her forehead lightly, his sensors telling him everything about her hot skin. "Now then. I have over 257 positions in my sexual intercourse database. Which one would you like to begin with?"

"Two... two... how many?!"

"Er..."

Optimus kicked his own aft mentally. It was never a good idea to show off like that with a femme. Even if he had truly meant his offer to be beneficial to her, and not in any way displaying his capabilities as a super advanced alien robot.

Maggie was still oggling him with wide eyes, and her blonde messy hair hanging around her sweaty face. She looked so appealing to him. He was so glad they had made acquaintances with her, although the circumstances hadn't been so great... he looked up when the woman poked his chest.

"You said 'begin' with. We're doing this more than once?"

"Yes. If something is good why only do it once? I can keep going."

Maggie decided that the facial muscles which provided her with her startled and surprised expressions were getting a very good workout today.

She tugged at his firm shoulder, "Let's lie down, Fabio."

"...I am not called 'Fabio'."

"It was a joke, Fabio. Look it up."

"..."

"What?"

Optimus' face screwed up into a distasteful expression as he lay himself on his side next to her on his recharge berth. "I must stress, I am not a hunk of beefcake with tortured blonde hair, nothing intelligent to say, enormous muscles and a contract to appear on the cover of every romance novel in existence."

Maggie laughed, snorting a few giggles into the palm of one hand. "You sure? ARGH!"

Prime had swiftly and silently rolled over and slid his holoform completely on top of her body so that his chest was just barely touching hers, and his crotch was pressed neatly against her own. His body was too tall for her, and his head went past her own so she was staring at his sculpted jaw and long throat.

... a gorgeous, taut, sleekly muscled and smooth jaw and throat. So nice. Just lovely in every way.

Prime levered his head back somewhat so he could look into her eyes with his own curious glowing blue orbs. The thick muscles of his shoulders and chest literally rippled, displaying his strength. He propped himself on his forearms upon the berth. Eyes with wicked intent glinted at her. "You were saying, Miss Maggie?"

Her eyes fluttered closed happily. She grinned. That body. Those eyes. That _voice_... all so perfectly male.

When the heady sensation of having him so up close tapered off enough for her to think again, she reached around to his shapely aft and seized a double handful (not easy since it was thick and hard; Optimus Prime was not a soft human). His head turned quickly to look at what her hands were doing, then he looked back at her with a swarmy grin.

"Time for you to do your man stuff, Optimus," she murmured up at him, gently nuzzling his nose with her own.

He responded by kissing her slowly. Slender wide lips parted to brush over her wider plump ones with his fringe hanging down enough to tickle her forehead when they meshed mouths. Optimus was not having any trouble with where their noses where supposed to go, there was no awkward clashing and nervous giggling. Her hips were already pushing up into his and that magnificent erection was already at her entrance. Its underside was brushing back and forth along her cleft. Then she felt the plum shaped point of him touch her intimately, and slide off to the side without entering. His hips were moving to try and get his erection inside, but he couldn't quite make it.

A small frustrated frown marred his handsome features. It was supposed to go in, wasn't it? Such a bad design. The lubrication Maggie was producing down there kept his penis sliding off-target. Could she open herself further perhaps? The hole was too small.

Maggie chuffed at him. With a roll of her eyes and a grin, her hand reached down to guide just the tip of him far enough in that he could handle the rest. Even that much stretching stung a little. It had been a long time since she'd had to take someone so thick.

"Oh, thank you," Optimus chuckled in her ear, kissing her cheek, giddy with the sensations travelling out from his crotch.

She put a hand to his chest, stalling him before he could start moving. "Go slow, don't shove yourself all in at once, you're very big, okay?" While she was overwhelmed to finally have him inside of her, it would majorly hurt to do it with one big manly thrust.

The thumb of Prime's right hand lifted to stroke her cheek, his eyebrows frowning in worry. "This is what you meant by me being too big? It will... hurt you?"

She nodded. Her hands slipped to his waist. "Oh, don't misunderstand me, I'm really looking forward to this," she said breathily, her chest and belly rising and falling with her accelerating breathing to push against him, "but, yeah, you can hurt me if you're not careful."

His hands cupped her face. "I won't let my physical strength or size hurt you, Maggie. You must know this."

The almost impaled woman tried to break the mood. This was getting too serious. This was sex, not Dr Phil hour! "So, are we, like, going out or something now? What exactly are we?"

His eyes widened, "What? Going out where?"

Prime's concentration was wavering. The feelings being processed by his holoform were beginning to overwhelm his CPU. His penis was so sensitive! He wanted to thrust and shove and get himself right up inside of her to feel more of it.

"ARGH! What the-?!" He shrieked and yelped when two mischief causing female hands reached down around his hips and encased his... his... what were those hanging things called?!

She laughed, "Yes, when a man gets naked, and gets too cocky, there are always these to keep him in-line with."

"Ow! Hey! Careful down there!" His hips jerked. A long growl came from him. "You... Primus... have good tactics. But you are forgetting one thing... ow!"

Maggie pouted sexily, "What?"

"This."

He quickly narrowed the width of his penis so it would not cause her discomfort, and allowed himself to sink at a firm but quick pace deeply into her.

"HOLY SHIT...!!"

Maggie arched her skinny body up into him, gasping and flailing at his back with her hands. Her knees snapped up so her thighs gripped around his indented waist and squeezed. Hard.

"You like? I know I do," he gasped into her ear. This was so damn GOOD! Ironhide and Ratchet weren't just mucking around, they were really onto a good thing with these holoforms!

"Move! MOVE! Push your hips!" Maggie spluttered. "Christ, in and out, IN AND OUT!"

Optimus' naked body began to undulate and thrust at her frenzied command, "...doing it!"

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..." Maggie groaned thickly and shoved back at him as much as he was pushing into her. She was close. Right up there.

Optimus was moving at such a pace he could hardly think. She was slick, and tight and... his head jerked as without further warning his body began to climax. Much too soon.

He shook his head in denial at himself, "No, no...! Wait! Uh! Not now! OH...!"

Prime's body went straight and rigid. His upper body rose sharply up on stiffened arms with his crotch pressed hard up against her female one, his head arching back, mouth in a wide grimace, eyes shut tightly. Waves of intense pleasurable delight began at his penis and went out to the rest of his body like power surges.

"Ugh! Ugh!"

His hips thrusted to finish off the last of his holographic orgasm. Head sagging, penis tingling, his arms let go and he lay flat and prone on top of her with a grunt.

After a few moments, his eyes opened and met Maggie's face up close.

...and he realised what he'd done.

"Oh. Oops. Did you, uh... orgasm, or was that just me?"

Her frowning face didn't respond. Didn't twitch. Didn't offer a comforting smile.

"Just me?"

"Just. You."

Optimus cringed, feeling his head sink back into his shoulders with shame. This was not good!! All the sex data said the female should come BEFORE the man!

"Now, Mr Optimus Prime, get off, and begin allll over again. From the beginning, and focus on _me_, not _you_." Her face was strict, "and for god's sake, make it last this time!!"

Prime closed his eyes with a grimace. "Yes Maggie."

**Authors note**: Oh, good GOD, now I need another holiday! PHEW!! Or another brain, I've just damaged my own!


End file.
